


Damask and Dark

by machtaholic (cinderella81)



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arranged Marriage, Courting Rituals, Feminization, First Dates, First Kiss, First Time, Forced Marriage, Gender Role Reversal, Hair, M/M, Original Character(s), Quentin's Hair, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Verbal Abuse, Victorian Attitudes, corsets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 00:14:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17294015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderella81/pseuds/machtaholic
Summary: Quentin was born and raised in the small magical community of Brakebills, which sprung up around the well known magical college Brakebills University.  The older families in Brakebills could all trace their magical lineage back generations, many to the founding of Brakebills itself - newer families were moving to Brakebills, wanting to immerse themselves in the magic, but the older families were still the majority.Brakebills was different.  Quentin had visited both other magical communities and the ‘real world’ on field trips with school and had never seen a community that was like Brakebills.  Anytime a man from Brakebills left and ventured outside of the small insulated community, they found themselves sticking out like a sore thumb.Quentin Coldwater, son of Brakebills elite, must secure a good match with a respectable woman.  Enter the prim, proper, rule following Alice Quinn.  But all he wants to do is escape.  With Eliot.  But family pressures mount and Quentin finds himself engaged with a wedding fast approaching.  Can Quentin escape in time and find freedom away from Brakebills?Warning:  Alice is NOT a good guy here.  Also hints of Q/Alice





	Damask and Dark

“Quentin Coldwater, you get out of bed right now!”

Quentin groaned and rolled over, wincing at the sound of the rustling of the sleep cap tucked over his hair.

“Fucking hate weekends,” Quentin mumbled, then squeaked when the covers from his bed were ripped away.

“Don’t let your mother hear you say that,” Margo said as she grabbed Quentin’s feet and started to tug him from the bed.

“I’m up, I’m up!” Quentin climbed out of bed and stared at Margo. “You know you taught me my most creative curses.”

Margo Hanson, Quentin’s valet and confidant, gave Quentin a little curtsy and a wink. “I know,” she said. “Just warning you that your mother would have kittens if she heard you curse like that. Now, eat breakfast quickly while I run the bath; we have two hours to get you ready.”

Quentin sighed and padded across the room to the vanity, where a tray sat holding his breakfast. He sat down and stared at the plate; kale, feta and egg toast, a small bowl of raspberries and strawberries and a glass of low fat milk. He dropped his napkin on his lap and ate quickly; his weekends were scheduled almost to the minute and if Quentin ran even a minute behind schedule … 

“Happy Sunday,” Margo said as she re-entered Quentin’s room and grabbed the napkin and tray.

“Nothing really happy about it,” Quentin replied softly.

“Get through the next few hours,” Margo said. “Get through the visitors and then you’ll have the rest of the day to yourself.”

“Small favors,” Quentin muttered, then frowned when he felt Margo patting his sleep cap.

“Go soak while I take your tray down to the kitchen,” Margo said. “Then we’ll do your hair and get you dressed.”

Once Margo was gone with his tray Quentin headed to the bathroom, stopping just inside the doorway as the smell of lavender hit him. He sighed and crossed the bathroom, stripping and stepping into the milk bath his mother commanded he do weekly. He sank down in the water, rested his head on the lip of the tub, closed his eyes and tried to forget.

Quentin was born and raised in the small magical community of Brakebills, which sprung up around the well known magical college Brakebills University. The older families in Brakebills could all trace their magical lineage back generations, many to the founding of Brakebills itself - newer families were moving to Brakebills, wanting to immerse themselves in the magic, but the older families were still the majority.

Brakebills was different. Quentin had visited both other magical communities and the ‘real world’ on field trips with school and had never seen a community that was like Brakebills. Anytime a man from Brakebills left and ventured outside of the small insulated community, they found themselves sticking out like a sore thumb.

Quentin jumped at the knock on the bathroom door.

“Time to get out!” Margo called.

Quentin leaned over, drained the tub and climbed out, taking a few minutes to dry off before slipping on a pair of underwear and his dressing gown and going back into his bedroom where Margo was waiting for him.

“Blue or purple?” Margo asked him as she held up two different corsets.

“I actually get a choice?” Quentin asked.

“A small one,” Margo said. “Your mother couldn’t decide and left it up to me. I, in turn, am leaving it up to you.”

Quentin eyed the two corsets. “Purple,” he said with a sigh.

“You do look lovely in purple,” Margo said as she put the blue corset away and laid the purple one on the bed. “All right, let’s layer you up, sweetpea.”

Quentin nodded and shrugged out of his dressing gown, tossing it on the bed and waiting for Margo to get the rest of his clothes for the day. First Quentin slipped on the silk purple tank top, then the knee high silk socks and then the dark purple fitted trousers. Quentin tucked his top into his trousers and then turned to face Margo.

“Can we not lace it so tight?” Quentin asked.

“Well you did just eat,” Margo replied, motioning for Quentin to turn back around.

Quentin grabbed one of the posts of his bed, closed his eyes and waited for Margo to bind him into the purple corset. Quentin could feel the boning press against his ribs, gasped when he felt Margo tug on the laces, wrapping the corset tighter around his frame. He felt Margo give the corset a couple of tugs and sighed.

“Done?” Quentin asked.

“Done,” Margo said. “Now come sit and I’ll do your hair and face, then you can finish getting dressed.”

Quentin dug his toes into the carpet a bit, but nodded and followed Margo back over to the vanity where he sat down and eyed his reflection warily. He made a face when Margo removed his sleep cap and hung it on the hook on the side of the vanity mirror. 

“Something simple?” Quentin asked.

“Well it’s not Saturday night, so we can be a little informal,” Margo said as she began the process of taking Quentin’s hair out of the pin curls she’d set them in the night before.

“You know I hate this right?” Quentin asked, wincing as a bobby pin stuck him in the scalp.

“What, you’d rather your mother order you to get a perm?” Margo asked as she worked. “Like Todd?”

Quentin made another face, watching as his almost waist length hair was released from its confies, spilling down his back in large waves. 

“No, I don’t want a perm,” Quentin whispered.

“Then stop whining, Q,” Margo said as she began to comb her fingers through Quentin’s hair to separate out the curls, grabbing a hair tie and working quickly and efficiently to style Quentin’s hair. Margo did a small braid at each of Quentin’s temples, then pulled them back in a small ponytail with the rest of his hair curled and fanned across his shoulders.

“Pretty,” Quentin muttered when he saw the finished product.

“Please, with me working on you, you’re always pretty,” Margo said. “Quick face and then we’ll finish getting you dressed.”

Quentin nodded and sat still while Margo worked on his face; moisturizer, eyebrow brush, bit of mascara, bit of gloss. He felt a bit like an art project when it was all done. 

Margo let him up and he went back over to the bed to finish getting dressed. Over the corset went a long sleeve cashmere shrug that buttoned just below his sternum, and while Quentin slipped on the shrug, Margo worked to attach a large swath of deep purple fabric to the bottom of Quentin’s corset from hip to hip, creating a floor length skirt.

“A butt cape,” Margo teased, patting Quentin on the ass.

“Thanks for that image,” Quentin muttered as he turned back around and stepped into the shoes Margo had already laid out for him. More purple with a slight heel, pointed toe and a gold buckle, they pinched Quentin’s toes and forced him to be extra careful when he walked.

“It’s cute,” Margo said.

“Yes, because it is my goal in life to be cute,” Quentin said. “Because the cuter and more demure I am, the better marriage I’ll make.”

“Oh Q.” Margo stood and pulled Quentin in for a gentle hug.

“It’s fine,” Quentin murmured.

“It’s not, but we’ll make due,” Margo replied. “Come on, you need to get downstairs. Ms. Julia Wicker will be calling soon.”

Quentin smiled; he known Julia Wicker since he was a toddler, they practically grew up together. Where Quentin could trace his magical abilities back fifty generations, Julia could trace hers back twenty-five generations and rumors flew that she had goddess blood in her genetics. They used to be best friends but as they got older, and traditions were forced on both of them, a gap formed in their friendship. They were still friends, but it wasn’t the same.

“Julia always calls,” Quentin said.

“I know,” Margo said. “And now I’m going to go take advantage of my downtime while you go entertain your callers.”

Quentin nodded and watched Margo leave down the valet entrance to his room before he carefully made his way down the stairs to the drawing room, where his mother was waiting for him.

“Quentin, darling, you look lovely,” Iris Coldwater said, pressing a kiss to her son’s cheek.

“Thank you, mother,” Quentin said.

“Now, you’ll have three visitors today,” Iris continued. “Ms. Wicker, Ms. Orloff-Diaz and Ms. Quinn. Once you’ve finished entertaining, you may have the rest of your day to do as you please. But you must be back by ten tonight, your finals start tomorrow.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Quentin said with a nod.

“Please do be kind to these nice young ladies,” Iris said, reaching over and fussing with Quentin’s hair. “Especially Ms. Quinn.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Quentin said.

“That’s my good boy,” Iris said, patting Quentin on the cheek. “Porter will be in shortly with refreshments.”

Once his mother had left him alone, Quentin went and sat down near the window and waited his first caller, trying to resist the urge to play with the fabric of his skirt.

A few minute later Porter entered with a tray of lemonade, glasses and a variety of snacks, followed by Julia, who was dressed in a perfectly tailored slate grey suit with matching tie.

“Ms. Julia Wicker,” Porter said solemnly before leaving Julia alone with Quentin.

“Hey Q,” Julia said as she crossed the room and sat down across from Quentin.

“Hey Jules,” Quentin replied. “I’d stand and give you a hug but I’m afraid I’d trip.”

“You look nice,” Julia said. “But you always did look nice in purple.”

“So I’ve been told,” Quentin said. “Didn’t see you at last night’s party.”

“I was interviewing for an internship,” Julia said. “Did you have fun?”

“Well, I didn’t step on anyone’s toes,” Quentin said.

“That is always a plus,” Julia said. “Are you ready for your finals?”

“As ready as I’m going to be,” Quentin said. “Mother has had me doing hand exercises and practicing my spells all the time.”

“You’re going to do great,” Julia said.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” Quentin asked, motioning to the refreshments. “I should have offered them right you came in, I’m sorry.”

Julia reached over and pat Quentin on the knee. “Don’t worry about it, Q,” she said. “I’m fine. Actually, I can’t stay for much longer - I have another internship interview in a little bit. I just wanted to come and see how you were.”

“I’m good,” Quentin said.

“Anyone else coming today?” Julia asked.

“Kady and Alice,” Quentin replied.

“Well, I hope you have a nice visit with them both,” Julia said, standing and moving to give Quentin a quick hug.

“Thanks,” Quentin said as he started to stand.

“No, don’t stand,” Julia said. “Porter will let me out.”

“Thank you for visiting,” Quentin murmured. “See you tomorrow?”

“See you in class tomorrow,” Julia said as Porter led her out, leaving Quentin alone with his thoughts for a few minutes.

Quentin knew his mother would prefer he make a match with either Julia or Alice, strong women with many generations of magic in their blood, women that would provide strong magical and political connections and strengthen both bloodlines.

“Ms. Orloff-Diaz,” Porter said as Kady strode into the drawing room.

“Looking cute, Q,” Kady said as she dropped into the chair across from Quentin, legs sprawled, burgundy suit jacket undone.

“Thanks,” Quentin said. Kady was what his mother called ‘new magic’ - she could only trace her magic back five generations, but she made waves for having an innate affinity for battle magic. “Didn’t expect to see you today.”

“Have to keep up appearances,” Kady said with a shrug. “It’s expected that I go and visit all the eligible males to try to make a good match.”

“How’s Penny?” Quentin asked with a grin. William ‘Penny’ Adiyodi was a scholarship student to Brakebills who came from Florida. Penny was the first magic user ever in his family and had the rare affinity of being a traveler. He and Kady had connected almost instantly, but Brakebills being Brakebills, certain traditions had to be kept. Kady and Penny were both just biding their time until they graduated and could escape to the city together.

“Doing good,” Kady said. “Says to say hi.”

Quentin chuckled - he and Penny were complete opposites and argued about almost everything, but when pushed they worked together well on group projects and had become begrudging friends.

“When you two escape,” Quentin said, “drop me a line?”

“Don’t count yourself out yet, Q,” Kady said, leaning in and grabbing a sandwich.

Quentin gave Kady a sad smile. “Unless some sort of miracle happens, I’m going to be staying in Brakebills,” he said.

“Miracles happen all the time,” Kady said as she strood and grabbed another sandwich and wrapped it in a napkin. “Okay if I take this for Penny?”

“Go for it,” Quentin replied.

“Thanks,” Kady said. “You really do look nice today.”

“Got to pick out the color all by myself,” Quentin said, smoothing the skirt over his knees.

“Good choice,” Kady said as she hastily buttoned her jacket and shoved the wrapped sandwich in her pocket. “Catch you in class.”

“See you in class, Kady,” Quentin said as Kady left.

Sometimes Quentin wondered what his life would have been like if things had been different. What if he’d been raised in a different community? What if he’d never know about magic? What could his life have been like?

Quentin heard the door open and close and was instantly on his feet. With Julia and Kady, he could be informal - neither one of them cared too much for tradition. But Alice, she was different. Her family could trace their magic back fifty generations, just like Quentin’s - they were traditionalists. A nasty rumor followed Alice’s family, something to do with Alice’s older brother, but they were still a powerful magical family, notwithstanding the rumors.

“Mr. Coldwater, may I present Ms. Alice Quinn,” Porter said, stepping aside to let Alice in.

Quentin dipped his head and dropped his gaze. “Ms. Quinn,” he said, pitching his voice softer.

“Mr. Coldwater,” Alice said. 

Quentin raised his gaze and gave Alice a small smile; she was dressed in a dark blue suit with her hair pulled back in a sleek chignon. She exuded an air of dominance that actually terrified Quentin.

“Would you care for some refreshment?” Quentin asked.

“I would love a glass of lemonade,” Alice said as she sat down across from Quentin.

“Of course,” Quentin murmured, fixing Alice a glass of lemonade. He passed the glass to her before perching on the end of his seat, making sure to sit straight, to cross his legs at the ankle, to make sure his skirt fell right, to make sure his hair was arranged right. Everything had to be right.

“Thank you,” Alice said, taking a sip of the lemonade before sitting back in her seat. “You look lovely today.”

“Thank you,” Quentin said softly.

“Purple becomes you,” Alice said. “How are your studies coming?”

“Well, I believe,” Quentin said. 

“And what is your discipline again?” Alice asked.

“The mending of small things,” Quentin said.

Alice smiled and nodded. “Such a lovely discipline for such a lovely young man,” she said.

“Thank you,” Quentin replied. “And your discipline is phosphoromancy, correct?”

“The bending of light, yes,” Alice said with a nod.

“Such an interesting discipline,” Quentin said as he fixed himself a small glass of lemonade. “Would you care for a sandwich? Or a small pastry perhaps?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you,” Alice said. “Quentin, I would very much like to court you.”

“C-court me?” Quentin said, mentally wincing at his stutter.

Alice nodded. “I believe that we would be a good match,” she said. “And the joining of our families would make for a stronger magical line. I would, of course, wait until after finals and after our graduation.”

“Of course,” Quentin murmured. 

“And I would speak with my parents,” Alice said.

“Who would speak with my parents,” Quentin said. 

“I would make a good spouse,” Alice said firmly. “And I would treat you well, Quentin, I promise. You would never want for anything.”

Except a real life.

“It would be a good match,” Quentin whispered. His mother would be ecstatic. He just barely managed not to flinch when he felt Alice’s hand on his knee.

“I’ll talk to my parents,” Alice said.

“Of course,” Quentin said, standing when Alice stood. “I’ll let my mother know to expect a call.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow at school,” Alice said, not even waiting for a response from Quentin before letting herself out.

Quentin groaned and dropped back in his chair, covering his face in his hands. He allowed himself a few minutes to freak out before standing and going to his room to change and escape the house to go find his best friend. Nothing like a bit of drinking and indulging in a bit of denial.

Dressed in a plain white t-shirt, a pair of jeans that his mother would whip him for even owning and a pair of secondhand sandals, Quentin snuck out the valet entrance, down the back stairs and out the back door. He ran through the woods behind his house, headed in the direction of the town and the local apothecary.

He needed to see Eliot.

He’d met both Eliot Waugh and Margo Hanson when he’d started at Brakebills University - they were both a year ahead of him. Where Margo got hired on as his valet after she graduated instead of making a magical marriage match (bucking the matriarchy), Eliot didn’t have as easy time of it.

Eliot could trace his magical abilities back thirty generations and would have been a catch for any other magical family. But, before he’d even been accepted into Brakebills he’d been disowned by his family for an incident that happened when Eliot was younger, centered around his first showing of his magical abilities.

Eliot Waugh had lost any chance for a good marriage in Brakebills, but he didn’t seem to mind. As soon as Eliot graduated, he’d gotten hired on with the local apothecary to learn the trade. But Quentin knew that Eliot was really just saving up enough money so he could leave Brakebills.

Part of Quentin was happy and the other part wished Eliot would never leave.

As Quentin reached the apothecary and meandered around back, to the small meadow where Eliot spent most of his time off, he called for his friend.

“Eliot!”

“Back here!”

Quentin turned the corner, caught sight of Eliot sitting on the grass behind the apothecary and stopped. And stared.

“Your hair.” Quentin licked his lips and stared at his best friend. Where once Eliot had dark brown hair that fell to mid-back, it was replaced with short riotous curls that didn’t even cover Eliot’s neck.

Eliot reached up and rubbed the back of neck.

“Margo helped me,” Eliot said. “She didn’t tell you?”

Quentin licked his lips again and shook his head. “No,” he said.

“Do you like it?” Eliot asked.

“Yeah,” Quentin said. “I like it a lot.”

“Thanks, my own way to buck the system,” Eliot said.

Quentin nodded and pulled a lock of hair over his shoulder, stroking it a bit. Men in Brakebills kept their hair long until after they got married - most wives chose to cut their husband’s hair on their wedding night. A man who cut his hair before that … 

Quentin gave himself a mental shake and moved to sit next to Eliot on the blanket. He kicked off his sandals and stretched his feet a bit, groaning softly.

“The shoes?” Eliot asked softly.

“New ones,” Quentin said. “The buckle dug into the sock.” He blushed when Eliot ran a finger along the top of one of his feet.

“How did visiting go? I see Margo set you in pin curls last night,” Eliot said, manhandling Quentin a bit and getting Quentin’s feet into his lap. “They look lovely.”

“Thanks,” Quentin said as he flopped back onto the blanket, his hair spread partially on the blanket, partially on the grass. He laid there for a few minutes, just watching the sky.

“How did visiting go?” Eliot asked again after a few minutes.

“It went fine,” Quentin mumbled, sitting up a bit on his elbows. “Did you bring wine?”

“Of course,” Eliot said, passing over a glass. “Who came to see you today?”

“Julia,” Quentin said, humming as Eliot started to gently massage his feet. “Kady.”

“Thought she’s seeing Penny,” Eliot said as he dug his fingers into Quentin’s arch, chuckling when Quentin moaned.

“She is,” Quentin said as he took a sip of wine. “But she’s keeping up appearances until she and Penny run away together.”

“Who else?” Eliot said. “You wouldn’t be this tense if it were just Julia and Kady who came to see you.”

“Alice Quinn,” Quentin whispered.

“Ah,” Eliot said, moving onto Quentin’s other foot. “That explains the tension.”

“Eliot?” Quentin downed the rest of his wine and sat up, pulling his feet from Eliot’s lap. “What did it feel like?”

“What?”

Quentin blushed and pointed to Eliot’s hair.

“Oh,” Eliot said, running a hand through his hair. “Liberating. Do you - do you want to feel it?”

“Can I?” Quentin asked shyly.

“Of course,” Eliot said, turning a bit so Quentin could touch.

Quentin looked at Eliot’s hair for a minute, at his bared neck and the short hair all around the back and sides that tapered up to big curls. He reached out with one hand and ran a finger up the back of Eliot’s head, smiling a bit as the short hairs tickled his finger. He got a bit bolder and put his hand in Eliot’s hair, running his hand back and forth.

“It’s soft,” Quentin whispered.

“Y-yeah,” Eliot said, then turned back around.

Quentin noticed that Eliot looked a little flushed and ducked his head. “Sorry,” he whispered.

“Still getting used to it,” Eliot murmured. “So, what are you going to do about Alice?”

“I don’t know,” Quentin said. “Her mom’s going to talk to my mom … it’s probably already a done deal.”

“But what do you want?” Eliot asked.

“I don’t know, El.”

Eliot reached over and poured Quentin another glass of wine. “I can’t tell you what to do, Q,” he said. “But whatever you end up doing, it needs to be your decision, and your decision only.”

Quentin sighed and nodded, downing the glass of wine in three drinks. “Damn, I needed that wine,” he said.

“Apparently so,” Eliot said, his voice tinged with laughter. “But don’t drink too much, you have finals tomorrow.”

“Yes, the daunting finals for the discipline of mending of small things,” Quentin muttered.

“Hey, the mending of small things is an important discipline,” Eliot said.

“A lovely discipline for a lovely young man,” Quentin quoted Alice, twirling a lock of hair around his finger.

Eliot reached over and took Quentin’s hands in his. “It’s an important discipline,” he said. “Most people are just good with the big things, with the loud magic, with the big shows. But the small things? With the small things, the most delicate magic makes the most difference.”

“Thank you,” Quentin said. “For the kind words.”

“It’s more than just words,” Eliot said. “It’s the truth, Q.”

“Thank you,” Quentin said again.

“So, where did you get the denim?” Eliot asked. “Very distressed, I like.” 

“Margo got them for me,” Quentin said. “Mother would whip me if she knew I owned them.”

“Good boys don’t wear denim?”

“Basically,” Quentin said. “I hide them under my bed.”

“Naughty,” Eliot said with a grin.

“I’d be in deep shit for the sandals, too,” Quentin said.

“Double naughty,” Eliot said, giving a lock of Quentin’s hair a playful tug.

Quentin ducked his head and blushed. “Damn, I’m starved,” he said after a few minutes. “Mother had me eat one of those healthy breakfasts and I didn’t even snack during the visits.”

“I just so happen to have a full late lunch for us,” Eliot said, nodding over to the large basket sitting at the far edge of the blanket.

“You think of everything,” Quentin said, grabbing the basket and putting it on the blanket between two of them. It wasn’t much, just a couple of sandwiches, some chips and fruit and a couple of bottles of water. But to Quentin, it was a feast worthy of royalty.

When Quentin had eaten his fill, he disposed of his trash and then joined Eliot back on the blanket, laying down and resting his head on Eliot’s lap. He hummed softly when he felt Eliot’s hand in his hair, letting his eyes drift closed.

“Do you ever wonder what life would like if we weren’t here?” Quentin asked.

“All the damn time,” Eliot replied. “It’s why I’m saving up to leave Brakebills.”

Quentin sighed softly. “I think I’m stuck,” he whispered.

“Don’t count yourself out yet,” Eliot said. “I think I’m going to have enough money saved up by the new year. A lot can change in seven months.”

“Yeah, I could be married to Alice,” Quentin muttered.

“Don’t be a negative Nancy,” Eliot said. “If I can get enough saved up … I’ll take you with me.”

“Promise?” Quentin whispered, feeling himself relax and drift off to sleep as Eliot continued to card a hand through his hair. 

“Promise.”

* * * 

Quentin’s love for the week matched his hatred of the weekend. 

From Monday through Friday Quentin had more freedom, more opportunities to be himself, than during the weekend. Sure, he still had to do morning yoga with Margo, eat the healthy breakfasts his mother forced on him, have boring dinners with his mother and father.

But Monday through Friday, Quentin could throw his hair back in a braid, dress in khakis, plain dress shirt, sweater and loafers, and just be a student. He could hang out with Julia, Kady and Penny. He could sit on the lawn at Brakebills University and bitch about the professors, the homework, the tests.

Once graduation had passed and Quentin had his degree in mending of small things, he started to have real fears about his future.

* * * 

After graduation was Memorial Day weekend and with it came the first grand ball of the summer.

That Saturday, Quentin was woken by Margo just as the sun was rising.

“Welcome to summer, sweetpea,” Margo said as she laid out Quentin’s yoga clothes.

Quentin just grumbled as he went to the bathroom to empty his bladder and put his hair up in a bun before returning to the bedroom to get changed. He tugged on the black yoga pants (which showed more than they hid) and the dark purple tank top with the mesh back before meeting Margo out on the back lawn.

“You look so chipper,” Margo said as she laid out their yoga mats.

“Fuck off, ‘m not awake,” Quentin mumbled.

“Tsk tsk,” Margo said, pointing to Quentin’s mat. “Best remedy that, you have a full day ahead of you.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Quentin said as he took his spot and let Margo lead him in a 90 minute yoga session.

“You have just enough time to rinse off a bit and grab breakfast before your diction lesson,” Margo said once they had finished and were rolling up their mats.

“A good boy doesn’t stutter,” Quentin said, passing his mat to Margo before hurrying back into the house. The sweaty yoga clothes went into the hamper and after a quick rinse in the shower, Quentin dressed in khakis and a white button down, hurried to the kitchen to eat a small breakfast and then headed to the study to meet his diction coach, Richard.

“Good morning, Mr. Coldwater,” Richard said.

“Good morning, Richard,” Quentin replied. “What are we working on today?”

“I thought,” Richard said as he motioned for Quentin to stand at the podium near the window, “that we would work on your B’s, S’s and T’s and then perhaps you could try Major General.”

Quentin swallowed, nodding as he took his place and faced Richard. “You think I can get through Major General?” he asked.

“We’ve been working all year,” Richard said. “You’ve made lovely progress and I think you can manage it. And if you can do it without messing up, then I will call our lessons done.”

“Really?” Quentin asked.

“Really,” Richard said. “Now, begin with the B.”

Quentin took a breath, rested his hands on the podium, closed his eyes and began. “Betty bought a bit of butter, but she found the butter bitter, so Betty bought a bit of better butter to make the bitter butter better,” he said.

“Once more,” Richard said. “Then the next.”

Quentin repeated himself, then moved onto the next exercise. “Brisk brave brigadiers brandished broad bright blades, blunderbusses, and bludgeons - balancing them badly.”

“Lovely,” RIchard said. “Just lovely. Now, S.”

“Silly Sally swiftly shooed seven silly sheep. The seven silly sheep Silly Sally shooed shilly- shallied south. These sheep shouldn't sleep in a shack; sheep should sleep in a shed,” Quentin said.

“Next one,” Richard intoned.

Quentin finished working through his S exercises and moved on to the T exercises, finishing off with the one that usually gave him the most trouble, a mix of S’s and T’s.

“Theophilus Thistler, the thistle sifter, in sifting a sieve of unsifted thistles, thrust three thousand thistles through the thick of his thumb.”

“Just lovely,” Richard praised. “You’ve really made a lot of progress.”

“Thank you,” Quentin said. “I’ve been practicing.” Most of which involved Eliot teasing him and goading him into doing the exercises while drunk.

“I think you are definitely ready for Major General,” Richard said as he stepped over to the record player in the corner of the study, turning it on and setting a record to play. “I know you know the words, so don’t overthink it. Just let the words flow.”

Quentin closed his eyes and took a deep breath as the music started.

“I am the very pattern of a modern Major-General;  
I've information vegetable, animal, and mineral;  
I know the Kings of England, and I quote the fights historical,  
From Marathon to Waterloo, in order categorical;  
I'm very well acquainted too with matters mathematical,  
I understand equations, both simple and quadratical,  
About binomial theorem I'm teeming with a lot o' news,  
With many cheerful facts about the square of the hypotenuse.  
I'm very good at integral and differential calculus,  
I know the scientific names of beings animalculous,  
In short, in matters vegetable, animal, and mineral,  
I am the very model of a modern Major-General.”

“Perfect!” Richard exclaimed. “You did that perfectly!”

Quentin blushed a bit. When he and Eliot would get drunk on wine, they’d recite it to each other and laugh when they flubbed lines. It made his diction lessons a little less horrible if he just pretended it was him and Eliot out in the meadow, reciting tongue twisters to each other.

“Thank you,” Quentin said.

“I’ll inform your mother of our progress,” Richard said as he gathered his things and turned off the record player. “And I do believe our lessons are now complete, Mr. Coldwater.”

“Thank you,” Quentin said again.

“And now I do believe Benedict is waiting for you in the music room for your piano lessons,” Richard said. “I’ll show myself out.”

Once Richard was gone, Quentin allowed himself a few minutes to himself before making his way to the music room where Benedict was waiting for him near the grand piano that dominated the room.

“Mr. Coldwater,” Benedict said.

“Benedict,” Quentin said. 

“I’d like you taka few minutes to warm up,” Benedict said as he motioned for Quentin to sit at the piano, “before we continue.”

Quentin nodded and took a few moments to stretch his fingers before running his scales, quickly adapting to the keys Benedict called to him.

“I have heard a few murmurs, and I anticipate that soon my services will no longer be needed,” Benedict said once Quentin was warmed up. “To that end, I’d like to hear you play Chopin.”

Quentin stretched his fingers again set them on the keys once more. “Nocturne?”

“Nocturne in E-flat major, Op. 9, No. 2,” Benedict said. “Begin whenever you’re ready.”

Quentin closed his eyes and picture the meadow behind the apothecary, sitting on a blanket with Eliot. He smiled as he remembered Eliot making piano keys of carrots and celery and asking Quentin to play him something. Quentin took a deep breath and began to play, letting himself drift as he played, letting the music flow from his fingers rather than trying to force the melody.

“I do believe,” Benedict said when Quentin had finished, “that is the first time I have heard you play that piece flawlessly. Just beautiful, Mr. Coldwater.”

“Thank you, Benedict,” Quentin murmured.

“I believe my work here is done,” Benedict said. “Your mother will be pleased.”

Quentin hummed and nodded as Benedict left the music room, probably in search of Quentin’s mother. Quentin rubbed his face and sighed - the perfect son who could speak without a stutter, who could play beautiful, romantic music on the piano, who could be a perfect, demure husband.

A knock on the door to the music room made Quentin jump.

“Sorry sweetpea,” Margo said from the doorway. “Time for lunch before your dance lessons. Then we have to get you ready for the fancy ass ball tonight.”

“First one of the summer,” Quentin said as he stood and followed Margo to the kitchen.

“Means it’s going to be big,” Margo said. “Plus is that you’re not going to have any callers tomorrow because this party is going to last all night long. Con is that you will be expected to dance and mingle and make good connections tonight.”

“What’s the theme?” Quentin asked as he sat down at the kitchen island and ate the light lunch the cook passed to him with a kind smile.

“A costume masquerade,” Margo said as she sat down next to Quentin to eat her own lunch.

“And what am I going as?” Quentin asked as he picked at his quinoa salad.

“A peacock,” Margo murmured.

Quentin sighed softly. “Of course,” he muttered.

“It won’t be that bad,” Margo said, nudging Quentin’s shoulder. “Okay, you might have a bit of a headache at the end of the night because of the hairstyle your mother picked but you’ll get to sleep in tomorrow.”

“Joy,” Quentin said as he finished his lunch.

Margo leaned over and pressed a sweet kiss to Quentin’s temple. “Sorry sweatpea,” she said. “Come on, you need to get changed for your dance lessons. We only have a short time before you have to start getting ready.”

Quentin nodded, taking a few more bites of salad before passing his bowl back to the cook and following Margo back up to his room. Once upstairs he got changed into his dance clothes; fitted blue tank top, blue capri leggings, a full white skirt over that and slightly heeled dance shoes.

Quentin had never been a fan of dance lessons. He was barely coordinated on his best days and he cursed more during his dance lessons than his college courses. He always stepped on his instructor’s toes and every class ended with Quentin apologizing.

There was one good thing about dance lessons, though.

“Q!”

Quentin chuckled as he entered the ballroom and found Josh Hoberman waiting for him. Josh had gotten married right after graduation, to a lovely girl named Poppy, who went off to hunt for dragons and left Josh alone in Brakebills. While Josh had a monthly allowance to live off of, he worked side jobs teaching young men to dance in order to earn a little extra money.

“Josh.” Quentin crossed the room and gave Josh a quick hug. “How are you?”

“Good,” Josh said. “Um, your mom talked to me about some shit and I got word from Poppy that she’s going to be home this week so I think this is going to be our last lesson.”

A pit started to form in Quentin’s stomach. All his lessons were ending, which made Quentin very apprehensive about his future, especially with what had happened the weekend before with Alice.

“Means no more going home with bruised feet,” Quentin said, trying to keep his tone light.

“Come on, man, you’ve totally been getting better,” Josh said. “You used to step on your skirt all the time, which I didn’t even know was possible.”

“Thanks,” Quentin said.

“Okay so, you totally know all the dances,” Josh said. “So today is going to just be a review. We’re going to do each dance you learned to make sure you know all the steps and then that’s it, man.”

Quentin nodded. “I’ll still see you around, right?” he asked.

“Dude, of course,” Josh said. “Now come on, time’s a wastin’! Before we begin, tell me the dances you’ve learned.”

“The Quadrille, the Scotch Reel, the Waltz and the Valse à Deux Temps,” Quentin said.

“Yep!” Josh said. “Now, we can’t do a proper Quadrille or Scotch Reel, but we can go over the steps.”

“Okay,” Quentin said, gathering his skirt a bit and taking his spot as Josh went to start the music.

“Once we finish going through these we’ll do the Waltz and the Valse à Deux Temps,” Josh said, taking his spot next to Quentin. “Ready?”

Quentin tucked his hand into the crook of Josh’s arm. “Ready,” he replied.

The music started and Josh and Quentin worked through the steps of first the Quadrille, then the Scotch Reel. Quentin was surprised to find that he didn’t once step on Josh’s toes and said the same when the dances were done.

“See, you have improved,” Josh said.

“Barely,” Quentin said.

“Well, whatever you’re doing keep it up after today so you don’t lose the steps,” Josh said. “Now, the last two dances.”

Quentin nodded and waited for Josh to change the music, closing his eyes and going back to the meadow with Eliot. Once Quentin had started dance lessons, after Eliot’s initial teasing, Eliot had helped Quentin with his balance, ensuring Quentin’s dancing improved. He thought about all the silly things he and Eliot had done in that meadow and smiled. 

“Ready for the last two?” Josh asked as he returned to Quentin’s side.

“Just don’t pinch me if I step on your toes,” Quentin said.

“I wouldn’t,” Josh said, “now that you’ve improved.”

“I’d appreciate it,” Quentin muttered as the music started again. He felt Josh’s hand on his waist, felt Josh take his hand and suddenly the two of them were waltzing around the ballroom in time to the music. They quickly moved from the Waltz to the Valse à Deux Temps and Quentin was surprised to find that he didn’t miss a step and didn’t once step on Josh’s toes.

“Bravo!” Josh said when they were done. “Beautifully done, Q!”

“Thanks,” Quentin replied. 

“You really are one of my most improved students,” Josh said. “And on that note, I gotta jet and get ready for Poppy to get home. The house looks like shit and I have a ton of cleaning to do before she gets back. I’m out, dude!”

Margo appeared just as Josh left.

“Time to start getting ready, Q,” she said. “We have a strict schedule we have to stick to. I already have the milk bath waiting for you upstairs.”

Quentin nodded and hurried up to his bedroom and from there into his bathroom. He stripped down and sank into the warm milk bath, resting his head on the lip of the tub as he soaked.

A knock on the door jolted Quentin out of his thoughts.

“Time to rinse, exfoliate and wash your hair!” Margo called.

Quentin sighed, stepped out of the tub and padded over to the shower where he rinsed off, used the scrubber to exfoliate away his dry skin and washed his hair. He worked quickly and efficiently and when he was done he tucked a towel around his waist, wrapped his hair in a towel and went into his bedroom where Margo was waiting for him.

“Prep today is going to be a bit involved,” Margo said, passing Quentin a jar. “First, moisturize.”

Quentin had long since lost any sort of modesty where Margo was concerned. He removed his towel, used it to get rid of any excess water and then began the task of applying moisturizer from his feet all the way up to his face.

“Underwear,” Margo said, passing Quentin a pair of teal boxer briefs.

“Thanks,” Quentin said as he tugged the underwear on.

“Okay, come sit over at the vanity,” Margo said. “I need to check and pluck, sweetpea.”

Quentin sighed and moved over to the vanity, turning lights on and sitting down on the bench. He waited patiently as Margo perched on the edge of the vanity facing Quentin with a pair of tweezers.

“Beauty is pain?” Quentin said, trying to keep his tone light.

“Sit tight, it’ll be over soon,” Margo said, patting Quentin on the shoulder before getting down to business. Adjusting the vanity lights she leaned and looked for any stray hairs on Quentin’s chest, plucking them quickly.

A few minutes later Quentin felt Margo applying a bit more moisturizer to his chest. 

“All done?” Quentin asked.

“All done,” Margo said as she finished applying the moisturizer to Quentin’s chest and shoulders and moved to stand behind him “Now we’re going to do your hair before you get dressed and we’ll do makeup last.”

Quentin sighed and nodded, watching in the vanity mirror as Margo took his hair down. He watched as Margo gently combed the tangles from his hair, plugged in the blow dryer with the diffuser and set about drying Quentin’s hair.

“You said I was going as a peacock?” Quentin asked as he watched Margo work. First with the comb, then the blow dryer, then with her fingers, hair ties and bobby pins to create an intricate style of pinned curls at the top of his head with long curls flowing down his back.

“Yep, a peacock,” Margo said, showing him the peacock feathers before securing them in Quentin’s hair. Two secured to each side of Quentin’s hair, as part of the fall of curls down his back and three peacock ‘eyes’ secured right in the center of his forehead.

“Okay, yeah, peacock,” Quentin said. “How many bobby pins did you use?”

“Enough,” Margo replied. “Time to get you dressed.”

Quentin stood and followed Margo over to the bed where his clothes were laid out. Everything was a mix of forest green, teal, and peacock feathers. Quentin slipped on the teal silk chemise first, then the forest silk socks and over that the forest green knee length pants with the chemise tucked into the pants.

“I still have to eat dinner,” Quentin said as he turned so Margo could get him into the forest green corset.

“I’ll make sure to leave you some room to eat,” Margo said as she began to lace Quentin into the corset.

“Appreciated,” Quentin said, gripping the bedpost as Margo tightened the laces. Quentin almost held his breath as Margo worked and was please to find he could still breathe easily when Margo had finished and tied the corset laces.

“Okay,” Margo said. “I’m going to do your makeup and then we’ll finish up getting you dressed.”

“What’s left?” Quentin asked.

“Shoes, butt cape and cowl,” Margo replied.

“Lovely,” Quentin said as he crossed the room and sat down once more in front of the vanity.

“You really will be,” Margo said, giving Quentin a wink as she pulled out the makeup.

Quentin tried to sit still as Margo worked on his face; first on the eyebrows, trimming and shaping, then tinted moisturizer, and then Quentin lost himself in the sensations as he felt Margo working on his face. He felt tugging on his lashline, eyelids and lashes, felt the strange sensation of a brush against his lips.

“And you’re done,” Margo said. “Do you want to look?”

“No,” Quentin muttered, but reluctantly opened his eyes. Iridescent blues and greens surrounded his eyes, with peacock eyes drawn at each temple and his lips were colored a dark coral shade.

“See? Lovely,” Margo said, smiling at Quentin in the mirror.

‘Very pretty,” Quentin said.

“Come on, we need to finish getting you ready,” Margo said.

Quentin sighed as he stood and followed Margo back over to the bed where the rest of his costume was laid out. He stepped into the iridescent green heels and then turned his back to Margo so she could attach the skirt to the bottom of his corset from hip to hip, wincing internally when he saw all the peacock feathers sewn onto it.

“How heavy is the skirt?” Quentin asked.

“Well, your mother commissioned it and the cowl specifically for this party tonight so safe to say it’s pretty heavy,” Margo said as she lifted it off the bed and worked to attach it to Quentin’s corset.

“Fuck, I’m supposed to dance in this?” Quentin asked as he felt the weight of the skirt. “I’ll be lucky if I can walk.”

“And we still have the cowl,” Margo said, motioning for Quentin to turn and step forward.

“I feel like Mother is setting me up to fail,” Quentin said.

“No,” Margo said as she pulled Quentin’s hair forward over his shoulder, “she wants you to make an impression.”

“Well if I fall flat on my face or trip of my skirt I’ll do that,” Quentin replied. 

“You’re going to be fine.” Margo lifted the cowl of peacock feathers, which was attached to a dark teal shrug and helped Quentin into it, adjusting the cowl and fixing Quentin’s hair.

“So? How do I look?” Quentin asked.

“Beautiful.” 

Quentin spun as quickly as he could to the valet stairs, where Eliot stood.

“Eliot,” Quentin said. “What are you doing - Mother would kill you if she found you here!”

“And that’s why I left the kitchen door open and told him how to get up the valet stairs without being seen,” Margo said, fixing one of the peacock feathers in Quentin’s hair. “Thought he’d want to see you before the party, since you two didn’t see each other today.”

Quentin ducked his head and blushed. “I’m a peacock,” he muttered.

“So you are,” Eliot said, crossing the room and tapping Quentin’s chin. “A very beautiful one.”

“Thanks,” Quentin said.

“You’ll be the belle of the ball,” Eliot said.

“If I don’t trip and fall flat on my face,” Quentin said.

“You’re going to be fine,” Eliot said.

“He finished all his lessons today,” Margo said. “Full marks in diction, piano and dance.”

“Brava, Quentin,” Eliot said, applauding elegantly.

“I, um, I’m not going to have any callers tomorrow because of how late the party tonight is going to go,” Quentin said, trying not to lick his lips.

“I do imagine you will be dancing into the wee hours of morning,” Eliot said.

“Can we still hang out tomorrow?” Quentin asked.

“But of course,” Eliot said. “I don’t have to work, so I’ll probably be spending most of the day out in the meadow. Come on out whenever you wake up.”

Quentin sighed with relief and nodded. “If I survive the evening unscathed -”

“You will,” Eliot said, reaching out and wrapping one of Quentin’s curls around his finger. “You will.”

Quentin blushed. “Then we can hang out tomorrow ,” he said. “No helping me with school, no helping me with lessons, just … hanging out.”

“I’ll bring the booze,” Eliot said.

“I’ll bring some food,” Quentin said. 

“And now Quentin has to go before his mother comes looking for him,” Margo interrupted.

“Wish me luck,” Quentin said.

“You’re going to be fine,” Eliot said, tugging the lock of Quentin’s hair gently. 

“From your lips to the gods’ ears,” Quentin said.

“Come on, Q has to go,” Margo said.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Eliot said, giving Quentin a soft smile before escaping down the valet stairs.

“See you tomorrow,” Quentin whispered after him.

“Come on,” Margo said, pinching Quentin’s arm. “Stop mooning over Eliot and go!”

“‘m not mooning,” Quentin said as he turned carefully and made his way out of his room and down the stairs.

“Quentin, you look lovely!” Iris exclaimed as Quentin descended the stairs. “Just perfect!”

“Thank you, Mother,” Quentin said.

“Margo you did a perfect job!” Iris went on, smiling at Margo.

“I had a lovely canvas to work with,” Margo replied demurely. 

“Of course you did, my Quentin is a lovely young man,” Iris said. “You may have a few hours off, but please keep your phone handy - Quentin will need help when we we got home.”

“Of course, ma’am,” Margo said. “I hope you have fun tonight.”

“Fun,” Iris said, rolling her eyes. “Tonight is about making connections for my Quentin!”

Quentin almost missed the look Margo shot him and just barely resisted the urge to laugh.

“Mother, do we need to get going?” Quentin asked.

“Yes, yes,” Iris said. “We need to go- the Quinn’s are hosting tonight’s party and we don’t want to be late.”

Quentin glanced over at Margo, who gave him a reassuring smile before patting him arm and nudging him towards the door mouthing ‘you’ll be fine’.

* * * 

“Okay, so you have to tell me everything.”

Quentin sighed and flopped down on the grass, reaching for some grapes out of the basket of food he’d snuck out of the house.

“Well, first of all I didn’t fall at all,” Quentin said.

“I knew you wouldn’t,” Eliot said as he poured himself a glass of wine.

“And my costume was the most extravagant,” Quentin said.

“Of course,” Eliot replied. “Your mother commissioned it and she wanted everyone to talk about her ‘precious Quentin’.”

“Well my dance card was full,” Quentin said. “So mission accomplished. But I couldn’t really sit so I had to eat standing up.”

“Aww, poor baby,” Eliot said, motioning for Quentin to put his feet in Eliot’s lap. “Blisters?”

Quentin rolled over and put his feet in Eliot’s lap. “No blisters but I had to soak them this morning,” he said. “I danced with Julia, Kady, Marina -”

“Wait, I thought Marina was abroad doing some research study,” Eliot said. “If I were there I would never have come back.”

“Well she did,” Quentin said with a shrug, groaning a bit when he felt Eliot’s fingers digging into his arch. “Anyway, I also danced with Fen, Victoria, Mackenzie and Alice.”

“And how many times did you dance with Ms. Quinn?” Eliot asked.

“Three times,” Quentin said, whimpering when Eliot moved to his other foot.

“And now everyone will definitely be talking about you,” Eliot replied. “How much did you eat last night?”

“Not enough,” Quentin muttered, reaching for more grapes and some cheese. “Damn corset.” He sighed a bit when Eliot released his feet, but sat up and poured himself some wine.

“Did anyone talk about me at all? I do love to hear gossip about myself,” Eliot said.

“The women still whisper about your hair when they think no one can hear them,” Quentin said. “But none of the women, except maybe Julia and Kady, know how to whisper.”

“I do love causing a scene,” Eliot said, ruffling his own hair playfully.

Quentin smiled at Eliot’s antics. “I do feel bad for Todd,” he said.

“Well, poor lad had a perm forced upon him and it really just doesn’t suit,” Eliot said.

“No, he spilled wine on Kady’s suit,” Quentin said.

“Ouch, I’m surprised she didn’t blast him,” Eliot said.

“It was an accident,” Quentin said. “He tripped on part of his costume.”

“And what costume was Todd wearing last night?”

“Well,” Quentin started, “Todd was dressed as a cat and, well, he tripped on his tail.”

“Tripped on his - oh my goddess,” Eliot said, flopping down on the blanket and laughing.

Quentin smiled at Eliot’s antics. “He dropped to his knees at Kady’s feet and apologized,” Quentin said. “She pet his head and said it was okay. Later I think Todd’s mother was trying to talk Kady’s mother into matching the two of them.”

Eliot snorted. “That’s never going to happen,” he said.

“You know that, Margo knows that, I know that, Kady knows that,” Quentin said. “And Penny definitely knows that. But nobody else knows that.”

“Should make for some interesting parties,” Eliot replied as he sat back up and poured himself some more wine.

Quentin laughed and nodded. “Yeah, this summer should prove to be interesting,” he said.

“So, what about Ms. Quinn,” Eliot asked.

“She’s so … proper,” Quentin said. “Stiff. Asks for permission for everything.”

“She always was a stickler for the rules,” Eliot said. “Even more so after whatever happened to Charlie.”

“I get that she wants to make a good impression,” Quentin said, grabbing some food from the basket. “But she acts way older than she is.”

Eliot shrugged as he finished his wine and laid back down on the blanket. “Do you think she’s going to pursue you?” he asked.

“She seemed very intent on dancing with me last night,” Quentin replied. “And Mother was ecstatic. I saw her at the end of the evening talking with Alice’s mother.”

“I expect you to read me every horrible letter she writes you,” Eliot said.

Quentin sighed and laid down on the blanket next to Eliot. “Hey El,” he murmured.

“Hey Q,” Eliot replied.

“You said you thought you’d be leaving by the new year?” Quentin rolled on his side and looked at Eliot.

“Yeah.” 

“If … if I can draw this out,” Quentin whispered, “will you take me with you?” He lowered his gaze when he felt Eliot reach out and tuck a lock of hair behind his ear.

“Of course,” Eliot murmured. “Of course, Q. I wouldn’t leave Brakebills without you.”

“Good,” Quentin said. “I’ll need some help figuring out how to draw this whole thing out as long as I can.”

“Oh Q, Margo and I are the king and queen of pulling one over on the matriarchy,” Eliot said, patting Quentin’s cheek. “Don’t you fret.”

* * * 

Summertime was always different than the school year. During the summer, Quentin managed to have all the free time in the world and yet be expected to adhere to a strict schedule. But with school and his lessons finally behind him, Quentin could look for an internship.

Also read and respond to Alice Quinn’s letters - her first attempt at courting Quentin.

“‘Quentin’ - what, no ‘my dearest’ or ‘my darling’? How boring,” Eliot said as he lay on a blanket in the meadow behind the apothecary.

“No, no endearments,” Quentin said as he reclined on the blanket with Eliot. Of course he’d taken the letter from Alice right to Eliot, wanting to see Eliot’s reaction and get his help in figuring out how to respond. 

“So boring,” Eliot replied. “‘I very much enjoyed our dances together during the Memorial Day ball. You were technically proficient and did not step on my toes once’. Wow, that’s some romance right there!”

“That’s the way she talks, too,” Quentin said.

“Oh I remember from college,” Eliot said. “Alice Quinn, always very proper, a rule follower.”

Quentin sighed and pushed his hair out of his face. “I expect a few more letters before she comes visiting again,” he said.

“Right, protocols must be followed,” Eliot said. “Then I expect an awkward stilted request to go to some sort of public function with you, perhaps Litha Festival.”

“Then the private walks, then the actual dates, then the gifts,” Quentin added. 

“All the trappings of a very formal courting,” Eliot said. “At least there’s one benefit to Alice being a stickler for the rules.”

“Yeah?” Quentin rolled onto his stomach and rested his head on his arms, hair falling back into his face.

“Time,” Eliot said, gently pushing Quentin’s hair out of his face and smiling at him. “Lots and lots of time. Time for me to keep saving money, time for us to get a plan in place. Time, Quentin. She’s giving us time.”

“The more time, the better,” Quentin muttered. “I don’t even know how to respond to that letter - there’s nothing romantic about that letter, there’s nothing in it that makes me want to respond to it. ‘Technically proficient’? What do you even say to that?”

“Ask Margo for help,” Eliot said as he folded the letter and tucked it back into the envelope. “She reads all those trashy romance novels, I bet she could help you figure out the perfect response.”

“Yeah, but not too romantic,” Quentin muttered. “Because I’m not actually interested in her.”

“Well of course,” Eliot said as he leaned over and tucked the letter into the back pocket of Quentin’s shorts. “Do you have a curfew tonight?”

“Nope.” Quentin pushed up on an elbow and smiled at Eliot. “I have today all to myself. The rest of this week I have internship interviews, but today is all for me.”

“So you can get drunk, but make sure you have plenty of water before you go to bed so you don’t wake up hungover,” Eliot said.

“Exactly.”

“Wonderful,” Eliot said. “I’ll call Margo and we’ll hang out at my place, drink wine and draft a response to Alice’s letter.”

“But not when we’re that drunk,” Quentin said as he sat up. “The letter has to be believable and it won’t be if we’re all drunk off our asses.”

“Okay we’ll prepare the letter then get drunk,” Eliot said.

“Sounds like a great plan,” Quentin replied.

* * * 

The letters continued at the rate of about one per week, and each time Quentin took the letter to Eliot and Margo to have them help him put together a response. 

Quentin’s mother was ecstatic, of course. Quentin found himself shuffled from shop to shop and got fitted for a whole new wardrobe for his eventual outings with Alice, all in shades of purple.

As predicted, towards the middle of June Quentin received a very formal envelope, on thick vellum paper, requesting Quentin accompany Alice to the annual Litha Festival. Iris accepted for Quentin before he could even prepare an appropriate response.

The morning of Midsummer, June 21, found Quentin sitting in a milk bath while Margo gently combed the tangles from his hair.

You’ll have to wear plenty of sunscreen,” Margo said.

“I know, sunburns are a bitch,” Quentin replied.

“Your mother provided a hat to go with your ensemble today,” Margo said.

“Of course she did.”

“But you still need sunscreen because the hat is straw,” Margo said, giving Quentin’s hair a tug. “Time to get out and get dressed.”

“No corset, right?” Quentin asked as he stood and stepped out of the tub, wrapping himself in an Egyptian cotton robe.

“No corset,” Margo said. “You’re going to be doing a lot of walking outside - a corset would be a bad idea.” 

“Tell that to my mom,” Quentin said, grinning as Margo nudged him into the bedroom.

“I did,” Margo said.

“Thanks,” Quentin said as he eyed the clothes on the bed. “Shorts, huh?”

“Shorts,” Margo said. “But sunscreen first.”

Quentin nodded, padding over to the vanity, and dropped his robe before reaching for the sunscreen. He took his time applying the sunscreen, making sure he was completely covered before going back to the bed to get dressed.

“Purple?” Quentin asked as he fingered the fabric of the polo shirt.

“You look lovely in purple and you know it,” Margo said. “Besides it’s better than dressing you in Alice’s favorite color.”

“Which is?” Quentin asked as he tugged on underwear and the shirt before stepping into a pair of khaki shorts, tucking the shirt in.

“White,” Margo said.

Quentin froze as he was putting his socks on. “Yeah, purple is fine.”

“Thought you’d say that,” Margo said. “Come sit, I need to braid your hair.”

Quentin shoved his feet into the laceless sneakers, crossed the room and dropped down in the chair in front of the vanity.

“Are you putting money aside too?” Quentin asked as he watched Margo in the mirror.

“Of course,” Margo replied. “We want to make sure we have enough money to get us started while we get settled. As we get closer, Eliot and I are both going to start trying to find jobs.”

Quentin frowned a bit. “I don’t even have my own money,” he muttered. “Mother never let me even have a part time job and I rely on her for everything.”

“We’ll figure it out, sweetpea,” Margo said, pressing a kiss to the top of Quentin’s head as she finished the braid. “Now, your mother wants you to meet her downstairs before you leave to meet Alice.”

Quentin sighed and nodded. “Yeah,” he said as he stood, stretched a bit and headed for the door.

“Your hat!” Margo called. 

Quentin sighed and turned, frowning at the hat in Margo’s hand. It was a straw hat with a wide brim and a lavender sash, the ends of which would trail down his back when worn.

“I know,” Margo said as she crossed the room and placed the hat on Quentin’s head.

“At least it’ll keep me cool,” Quentin muttered.

“There is that,” Margo said. “You’d best get downstairs, your mother is waiting.”

Quentin sighed again and nodded. “Yeah,” he said, giving Margo a quick hug before heading downstairs.

“Quentin, darling!” Iris said when Quentin descended the stairs.

“Mother,” Quentin said, tipping his head to the side to accept the perfunctory kiss on the cheek from his mother.

“I’m giving you some spending money for your outing today with Ms. Quinn,” Iris said, handing Quentin a small tan bag. “There’s enough there for food as well as to buy Ms. Quinn something should she see something that strikes her fancy.”

Quentin slipped the bag onto his shoulder; money, his mother had handed him money. If Quenin was really careful with it, depending on how much his mother had given him, maybe he could stash the rest away. And if his mother kept giving him money for outings, maybe he could start saving money for when he left.

“Thank you, Mother,” Quentin said.

“Now, there will be plenty of people around,” Iris said. “It’s a public outing, and everyone from town will be there. Your father and I will be around later, but we’ll leave you and Ms. Quinn alone, I promise.”

“Yes, Mother,” Quentin said.

“I made sure to put sunscreen in that bag as well,” Iris said, “wouldn’t want you getting sunburned, darling.”

“Thank you Mother,” Quentin said.

“Now you’d best get going,” Iris said. “I’m sure Ms. Quinn is waiting for you at the entrance to the Festival.”

Quentin gave his mother a thin smile and nodded as he left the house and made his way to the center of town where the Litha Festival was underway.

Quentin smiled at the large maypole that dominated the Festival - Quentin remembered as a child being one of those chosen to decorate the maypole. As he got closer, he immediately spotted Alice, wearing a crown of purple flowers and a simple white dress.

“Mr. Coldwater,” Alice said as Quentin got closer.

“Ms, Quinn,” Quentin replied. “You look lovely.”

“As do you,” Alice replied. “Purple suits you.”

“Thank you,” Quentin replied.

“You’re welcome,” Alice said. “Shall we go in? I prepared a list of activities we can do inside, things that are both fun and yet allow for conversation so that we might learn more about each other.”

Quentin nodded. “Yeah, let’s go in,” he said. The sooner they went in and did whatever Alice wanted, the sooner Quentin could get home.

“Perhaps we could get lunch first?” Alice said.

“That would be nice,” Quentin said as he followed Alice into the festival. His mother had been right - everyone was there and watching him and Alice intently.

“We could split a sandwich and have some salad,” Alice continued as they made their way to the food booths. “And perhaps some cobbler for dessert.”

“Sounds delightful,” Quentin replied.

Once near the food booths, Alice had Quentin find them a table while she went to go get them food. Quentin found a small table with an umbrella and sat down to wait.

“Lookin’ cute, Q!”

Quentin turned when he heard Kady’s voice, smiling as she and Penny approached his table.

“Thanks,” Quentin replied. “Bucking convention, I see.”

“Always,” Kady said, slinging an arm across Penny’s shoulders and tugging him close.

“Good to see you, Q,” Penny said. “How’s the summer treating you?”

“Can’t complain,” Quentin said. “Well I could, but I think I’d get in trouble.”

“Shit man, that sucks,” Penny said. “But listen, just wanted to let you know that Kady and I are in.”

“In?” Quentin glanced up at Kady and Penny, confused.

“On the getaway plan,” Kady said. “Margo and El talked to us.”

“Oh … oh!” Quentin said. “That’s great.”

“Just wanted to let you know,” Penny said.

“And now we’re going to get out of here before Aice gets back with your food,” Kady said. “Keep your chin up, Q.”

Quentin smiled as Kady patted him on the shoulder before tugging Penny away from his table and into the crowds. Just in time, as Alice arrived a few minutes later with food for them.

“I brought some hibiscus lemonade as well,” Alice said as she sat down across from Quentin.

“Sounds refreshing,” Quentin said.

“My thought exactly,” Alice said as she divvied up the food and handed Quentin a fork and napkin.

Lunch was boring, filled with stilted conversation and mundane topics of conversation. Not to mention that the portions of food Alice had given him were small and he was still hungry by the time lunch was done.

“You mentioned perhaps some cobbler?” Quentin said and when Alice nodded, he stood and grabbed his bag. “Please, let me go get it for us.”

“How kind of you,” Alice said, nodding.

Quentin gave Alice a small smile before leaving the table and heading for the dessert booths, quickly finding the cobbler. He stood in line and ordered two cobblers and then, before going back to the table, ate one of the cobblers for himself. He got some water to rinse his hands and wipe his face, tossed the used fork and napkins and grabbed two new forks and fresh napkins before going back to the table.

“The line was longer than I thought,” Quentin said as he sat back down and set the plate, utensils and napkins down.

“The cobbler is always very popular,” Alice said as she reached for one of the forks.

“It is,” Quentin said as he grabbed the other fork. “It was one of the things I always looked forward to when I came to the Festival.”

“It’s delicious,” Alice said as she divided the cobbler into two, giving herself the larger portion.

Quentin ate his meager portion quietly. 

“So what did you want to do?” Quentin asked when he was done eating.

“I thought we would start off making wicker men to toss in the bonfire, then dream pillows, and then seashell charms before perusing the wares people are selling,” Alice said.

Quentin watched as Alice gathered all the trash and passed it to him to throw away. He returned to the table and offered Alice his arm.

“Shall we go?” Quentin asked.

“Yes,” Alice replied as she stood and tucked her hand into the crook of Quentin’s arm.

They moved from booth to booth, doing all the activities Alice had planned for them. They made small wicker men, dream pillows and seashell charms. Quentin kept offering to pay, but Alice insisted on paying for everything.

Quentin did get a chance to pay for something, but it wasn’t for Alice. They were in the middle of making their seashell charms when Alice had to go use the restroom, leaving Quentin alone at the booth. While she was gone, Quentin quickly paid the money to make another charm.

“A surprise for Ms. Quinn?” the woman working the booth asked.

“Y-yes, a surprise,” Quentin said as he quickly made the charm and tucked it into the pocket of his shorts.

“My lips are sealed, Mr. Coldwater.” 

“Thanks,” Quentin said, going back to his own charm.

After Alice returned and they finished their charms, they wandered around the Festival, greeting the other residents and looking at everything people were selling.

“I’d like to get you something,” Alice said.

“Something?” Quentin, glancing up from where he was looking at a table of pins and brooches. 

“I know we’re not at that stage yet,” Alice said, “and it won’t be anything big. Just a little trinket.”

“Oh,” Quentin said, “I-I’d like that.” He didn’t want that at all, but he knew that to refuse would be bad form.

“Wonderful,” Alice said. “I’ve already seen the perfect trinket.”

* * * 

“It’s like the Scarlet Letter but … glittery.”

Quentin laughed at Eliot’s comment, turning the brooch over in his hand. It was an ‘A’ encrusted with white sequins and it looked hideous.

“Mother was ecstatic when I came home wearing it,” Quentin said.

“Of course she was,” Eliot said. “You’re being courted by a Quinn, practically Brakebills royalty.”

“Yeah,” Quentin said slowly. “Oh! I almost forgot - I made you something.”

“Moi?” Eliot said, hand on his chest. “You made something for me?”

“Mmmhmm.” Quentin reached into the pocket of his shorts and pulled out the simple leather necklace with a shell hanging from it. “The shell’s a banded tulip. I thought it looked pretty.”

“It is very pretty,” Eliot said as he took the necklace from Quentin and slipped it around his neck. “How did you manage it?”

“Alice went to the bathroom,” Quentin mumbled. “The girl at the booth thought I was making a surprise for Alice.”

“Sneaky,” Eliot said.

“Do you like it?” Quentin asked.

“I love it,” Eliot replied, “and will wear it proudly.”

“Thanks,” Quentin said. “I didn’t see you at the Festival.”

“Better things to do,” Eliot said with a shrug. “Also wasn’t too sure anyone would want to see me, seeing as I’m still the town pariah.”

“I wanted to see you,” Quentin replied.

“Didn’t want to get between you and Ms. Quinn,” Eliot said.

“I wish you would have.” Quentin smiled softly and leaned into the touch when Eliot reached over and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear.

“Must keep up appearances,” Eliot replied.

“She wants to go for tea next weekend,” Quentin said.

“Another public outing?”

“Tradition dictates six weeks of public outings before any unchaperoned visits,” Quentin mumbled.

“And we know Ms. Quinn would never buck tradition,” Eliot said.

“Exactly,” Quentin replied.

“Remember, Ms. Quinn being a stickler for tradition works in our favor,” Eliot said. 

“Time,” Quentin whispered.

“Time,” Eliot said. “So remind me, what comes after public outings?”

“We move to one-on-one encounters with no chaperones,” Quentin replied.

“Weren’t you one-on-one when she came calling?”

“Please,” Quentin said, “Mother had Porter watching every single call - I was never really alone with any of them.”

“Weren’t you worried Porter would tell your mother about your ‘non traditional’ conversations with Julia and Kady?”

“Nah, Porter doesn’t really care. He only told my mother what she wanted to hear,” Quentin said. “Porter seems surly but he actually likes me - more than my mother, I think.”

“A blessing,” Eliot said. “Okay, one-on-one for how long?”

“Before she proposes and things get scarier? Another four weeks or so? Then it will progress to gifts and family dinners for a few more weeks and then … “

“She’ll pop the question,” Eliot finished.

“And it will be parties, dress fittings, floral arrangements, invitations,” Quentin said. “And the end of my life as I know it.”

“It’s the end of June now,” Eliot said. “If I calculate this right, she won’t pop the question until at least the beginning of September. Time enough to make sure we’re getting our ducks in a row.”

“Engagement in September, I should be able to push the wedding to January,” Quentin said. “Planning a wedding takes time.”

“That it does,” Eliot said with a nod.

“I’m scared, El,” Quentin 

“I know,” Eliot said, “But I swear, Quentin, we’ll leave Brakebills together.”

* * * 

The courting progressed. Alice and Quentin attended tea together in town, went to city book sales, magic lectures at the library, and many other things that put them right in the public eye.

Before every outing, Quentin’s mother would give him a bit of spending money.

But Quentin never used the money his mother gave him. Every time that Alice and Quentin went out, Alice paid for everything. So when Quentin got home, he tucked the money away under his bed; with every outing his meager savings got bigger and bigger.

But things had progressed. Traditions were being kept and Alice and Quentin had moved past public outings.

“Time to get up!” Margo called.

Quentin groaned as he felt his covers being tugged away.

“No,” Quentin grumbled as he rolled over and glared at Margo.

“Yes,” Margo said. “I let you sleep as long as I could, and since Alice will be here in an hour so we have to get a move on.”

Quentin sighed and sat up, rubbing his eyes sleepily as Margo came around the side of the bed and pressed a kiss to his sleep cap.

“And what are we doing today?” Quentin asked as he climbed out of bed, following Margo to the vanity.

“I believe you and Alice are going for a walk in the gardens behind your house,” Margo said.

“Sounds fun,” Quentin muttered as he watched Margo work in the mirror. She’d set his hair in pin curls again the night before, and was releasing big curls that fell down his back. “I’m guessing I can’t wear shorts?”

“Sorry sweetpea,” Margo said as she continued to work, coercing Quentin’s hair in a deceptively simple looking vintage style, complete with victory rolls.

“Pants at least?” Quentin asked.

“You do get pants,” Margo said. 

“Better than the butt cape,” Quentin muttered.

“You look cute in a butt cape,” Margo said.

“Says you,” Quentin said, wincing as a bobby pin scraped his scalp.

“And El,” Margo replied as she moved to stand in front of Quentin. “He thinks you look cute in a butt cape, too.”

Quentin blushed a bit as Margo tugged him up and dragged him to the bed to get dressed. Laid out on the bed were a pair of white tapered trousers, a purple gingham collared halter-style top and a purple shrug. 

“At least it’s not a skirt,” Quentin said softly as he got dressed.

“Don’t forget the shoes,” Margo said, nodding to the white sandals on the carpet next to the bed.

“Of course, can’t forget the shoes,” Quentin said.

“It’s really not so bad,” Margo said.

“I wish I was wearing jeans,” Quentin murmured, ducking his head a bit as Margo adjusted the collar of his shirt.

“I know,” Margo replied. “But you can change into them when you’re done, before you go see Eliot.”

Quentin sighed and nodded. “How are we on time?” he asked.

“Right on schedule,” Margo said. “I bet Alice will be coming to the door any moment now.”

“Guess I’d better get downstairs,” Quentin said.

“Good luck,” Margo whispered.

Quentin gave Margo a small smile before he headed downstairs, where his mother waited in the foyer.

“You look adorable, sweetheart,” Iris said. “Now Alice will be here in a moment, but your father and I will leave you two alone.”

Quentin just nodded his understanding.

“And I’d like to hear all about it when you’re done,” Iris continued, “ then you can have the rest of the day to do as you please.”

“Thank you, Mother,” Quentin said, just as the doorbell rang.

“And there she is,” Iris said. “You get that, darling. I’ll leave you two alone.”

Quentin opened the door just as Iris made herself scarce. Alice stood on the front porch wearing a white sundress, holding a small basket of fruit and muffins.

“Ms. Quinn,” Quentin said.

“Mr. Coldwater,” Alice said. “I baked these muffins for you.”

Before she even had a chance to pass them over, Porter arrived seemingly out of nowhere and grabbed the basket.

“Thank you,” Quentin said. “Shall we … walk?”

“Of course,” Alice said. “Just give me one moment.” 

Quentin watched curiously as she did a quick casting, then offered him her arm. 

“What was that?” Quentin asked as he slipped his hand into the crook of Alice’s arm.

“Nothing,” Alice said quickly as she led the way around the house to the gardens. “Nothing to be concerned about.”

“Okay,” Quentin said slowly as they began to make their way through the gardens. Alice made stilted, slightly awkward small talk as they walked and Quentin tried to keep things interesting, which wasn’t exactly easy. He couldn’t joke with her like he normally did with Eliot or Margo. He couldn’t talk to Alice the way he talked to Julia or Kady either.

It made for odd conversation.

After about an hour and a half of walking and making awkward conversation, Quentin jumped when out of nowhere a little alarm bell sounded. 

“What the f - what was that?” Quentin asked, barely managing to keep the curse contained.

“An alarm,” Alice said. “Tradition dictates that ninety minutes is the perfect amount of time to walk with someone in order to appropriately bond.”

“Oh,” Quentin said softly. 

“This has been a lovely walk,” Alice said.

“Y-yes,” Quentin said, resisting the urge to jerk his hand away when Alice lifted it and pressed a kiss to his fingers.

“I look forward to more walks,” Alice said. 

“As do I,” Quentin said and before he could say anything else, Alice was suddenly gone. Quentin rolled his eyes and went back into the house. After a brief interrogation from his mother, Quentin rushed to his room, took down and brushed his hair, changed into his one pair of jeans and a t-shirt and snuck down the valet stairs.

“Take some food,” Margo said when she saw Quentin in the kitchen. “But not Alice’s muffins; bitch can’t bake and they taste like shit.”

Quentin laughed and nodded, preparing a basket of fruit, meat and cheeses to take out to meet Eliot. A quick peck to Margo’s cheek and Quentin rushed out the back door and went straight for the meadow.

“Hello eighties hair!” Eliot called when Quentin came around the corner.

Quentin tripped a bit and blushed. “Margo did some vintage thing and then I rushed to take it down.” He sat down on the blanket and reached for the glass of wine Eliot offered him.

“I have a solution,” Eliot said, motioning for Quentin to turn.

Quentin turned around, took a sip of wine, and then hummed softly when he felt Eliot’s fingers in his hair. After a few minutes, he realized Eliot was braiding his hair and smiled. He sipped his wine, closed his eyes and lost himself to the sensation of Eliot’s hands in his hair.

“‘s nice,” Quentin mumbled.

“I know,” Eliot said.

Quentin smiled when he felt the soft thump of the end of the braid tap his back. He turned around and grabbed a piece of fruit, giving Eliot a smile.

“Alice brought me muffins,” Quentin said. “But Margo said they tasted like shit.”

Eliot laughed and reached for some cheese out of the basket. “And how was your walk with Ms. Quinn?”

“Boring,” Quentin said. “The conversation was stilted and awkward. She set a fucking timer spell!”

“A what?” Eliot said.

“Apparently tradition dictates that ninety minutes is the perfect amount of time to walk with someone in order to appropriately bond,” Quentin muttered.

“Gods, what a pretentious, yet insecure thing to know,” Eliot said. 

“We’re getting close right?” 

Eliot nodded and grabbed a couple of grapes. “I’ve recently been in contact with Henry Fogg, a former Brakebills resident,” he said. “He’s going to help us find a place.”

“Us?” Quentin asked.

“You, me, Margo,” Eliot said, “and also Kady and Penny.”

“It’ll have to be a big place,” Quentin said.

“And in the City that’s hard,” Eliot said. “That’s why I found Fogg. He’s going to help us get a place and get us in touch with people to get jobs.”

“So one step closer?” Quentin asked.

“One step closer,” Eliot said as he refilled Quentin’s wine glass. “Now, tell me every boring thing Ms. Quinn said so I can judge.”

* * * 

Quentin went on more (timed) walks with Alice and had tea with her at her house. He’d been getting regular updates from Margo and Eliot as to the progress of the plan, but to Quentin it didn’t seem like things were moving fast enough. 

He was grateful for one thing - Alice seemed to be taking her time with the one-on-one visits. They ‘dated’ all the way through August and well into September when, on Mabon, Alice placed a small box on the table between them, opened it to reveal the most horrendous and gaudy ring Quentin had ever seen and …. 

“Quentin Makepeace Coldwater, would you do me the honor of taking my last name and becoming my spouse?”

Quentin paused, lemon poppyseed scone halfway to his mouth. He swallowed, set the scone down, wiped his hands on his napkin and gave Alice a small smile.

“I would be honored, Ms. Quinn,” Quentin said softly. It wasn’t the answer he wanted to give, far from it, but he knew it was the only answer he should give.

“Wonderful,” Alice said and slipped the ring onto Quentin’s finger.

Quentin stared down at the ring for a few minutes, then jumped when Alice stood. He started to stand as well, but sat back down when she shook her head.

“No need to stand,” Alice continued. “I’ll talk with my parents, who will talk to your parents. We can discuss the engagement contract and start deciding on a date and then we can start planning.”

“January,” Quentin blurted out. “I’d ...I’d like the wedding to be in January. We’d need at least three months to even try to plan a wedding and I think it would be nice to begin the new year with our wedding.”

“I think January is sufficient,” Alice said with a nod. “I will be in touch.”

Once Alice had left, Quentin took a few minutes to compose himself before making his way up to his room, hoping against hope that he didn’t run into anyone. When he got to his room he flopped down on his bed and cried.

“Oh sweetpea.”

Quentin didn’t even lift his head or stop crying, merely pulled his arm out from under his pillow to show Margo the ring.

“That is hideous.”

“I know.” Quentin stopped crying long enough to respond, his voice muffled by his pillows.

“I thought Alice might pick today to do this,” Margo said. “So I planned ahead.”

Quentin felt the bed dip, then felt gentle and familiar fingers in his hair. “Shhhhh, it’s going to be okay.” Eliot’s voice was like a soothing balm and Quentin practically climbed into Eliot’s lap, burying his face in Eliot’s shoulder.

“But I’m engaged,” Quentin muttered.

“But we knew that was going to happen,” Eliot said. “We had to let it happen in order to not raise any suspicion.”

“But the ring is so ugly,” Quentin said.

“It really is horrendous,” Margo said.

“Not helping, Margo,” Eliot replied sharply, then spoke softly to Quentin. “Remember what we talked about, Quentin. This is giving us time. Time to make sure every part of the plan is in place and goes off without a hitch.”

Quentin nodded, burrowing himself deeper into Eliot’s embrace. “It’s just becoming real,” he said softly.

“I know,” Eliot said. “And I know it’s scary. But remember my promise to you.”

“That we’ll leave Brakebills together,” Quentin said.

“Right,” Eliot said. “We are going to leave Brakebills together. So we’ll drag out this engagement as long as we can and I promise you won’t have to say ‘I do’.”

* * * 

“She doesn’t want you to talk to or see Julia or Kady,” Margo said.

Quentin groaned and flopped down on his bed, watching Margo read the engagement contract. “She’s such a twatwaffle,” he grumbled.

“Quentin!” Margo said. “I’m impressed!”

Quentin gave Margo a small smile. “She also wants me to stop hanging out with Eliot,” he said.

“Well that’s not going to happen,” Margo replied. “We’ll just have to get sneakier about it.”

“And once I’m m-married,” Quentin continued, “you’re going to get fired and the only people I’ll be dealing with will be Alice-approved people.”

“But it’s not going to get that far,” Margo said.

“I know,” Quentin replied softly. “At least I’m pretending I know that.”

“We’re not going to let it get that far,” Margo said. “Promise.”

Quentin sighed and sat up on the bed. “Once I signed the contract,” he said, “Alice gave me a present.” He reached for the box on his bed and passed it to Margo. “I feel like she’s trying to tell me something.” 

“What is this?” Margo asked as she opened the box. 

“I think it’s supposed to be a necklace,” Quentin said. “But it looks like -”

“A collar!” Margo said as she lifted the necklace out of the box. It was gold and wide, would lay against Quentin’s collarbones when worn, and had what looked like a D-ring hanging from it surrounded by diamonds.

“I know,” Quentin said. “Mother said it looked beautiful and that it was the perfect gift.”

“For a dog maybe,” Margo muttered.

“We set the date of the wedding during the contract signing,” Quentin said. “Saturday, January 5, the first new moon. New year, new moon, new life.”

“January 5,” Margo said. “Got it.”

“Oh!” Quentin rolled off the bed and dug around under the mattress for a few minutes before coming back with an envelope, which he handed to Margo. “Take this.”

“What is this?”

“Every time I went out with Alice, Mother would give me money,” Quentin said as he moved to sit back on the bed. “But Alice paid for everything, so I kept the money and hid it. And I want you to have it to help with the plan, so we can get the fuck out of here.”

“Thank you, sweetpea,” Margo said, climbing onto the bed and giving Quentin a hug. “Penny’s been looking for a car.”

“Has to be a big one for all of us,” Quentin said. 

“Not necessarily,” Margo replied. “We can do a few spells to make it more comfortable inside. But this money will help, Q. It’ll help a lot.”

“Good,” Quentin said. “Mother and Alice both want me involved in the wedding planning.”

“When does that start?”

“Soon,” Quentin said. “Just over three months to plan a wedding between two of the biggest families in Brakebills.”

“And with Alice wanting to follow all the rules,” Margo said.

“Lots of little things to plan,” Quentin said.

“Indeed,” Margo said. “Lots of little things to plan.”

“On both fronts,” Quentin murmured.

“Exactly.”

* * * 

“I have a gift for you.”

Quentin paused, cup of tea halfway to his lips to take a sip. “Oh?” he asked as he set the cup down and glanced over at Alice.

“Mmmhmm,” Alice hummed. “I was talking to your mother about the wedding plans. She said things were going well and that you’d finally settled on the colors.”

“White, of course,” Quentin said, “and purple.”

“A lovely choice,” Alice said. “And that a venue has also been chosen.”

“The temple of Demeter is lovely,” Quentin said.

“I concur,” Alice said. “Having a wedding in a temple dedicated to the goddess of growth has lovely sentiment.”

The temple was also literally at the edge of town - Quentin could be picked up from there and they could be on their way out of town should they have to push their escape that close to the … to the deadline.

“I thought so,” Quentin said.

“I have another gift for you,” Alice said, pushing a box across the table towards Quentin.

“Oh,” Quentin murmured. “Thank you.” He undid the plain white bow wrapped around the box, lifted the lid and stared down at the box’s contents.

“I know that it’s a bit early to give these to you,” Alice said. “But I found them this morning while out shopping and just couldn’t wait to give them to you.”

Quentin blinked down at the deadly looking pair of shears that lay on the white tissue paper in the box, the handles of which were gilded and gaudily decorated.

“I can’t wait to use them on our wedding night,” Alice continued as she reached across the table and took one of Quentin’s hands in hers. “I’ll sit you down in front of the vanity, before we go to bed and consummate our marriage, and cut your hair for you. Perhaps I’ll have it made into rope … perhaps I’ll have it sewn into clothes to wear. Everyone will know you belong to me when they see you walk down the street, your hair shorter than that tramp of a boy Kady’s not so secretly seeing.”

Quentin continued to stare down at the scissors, then jumped when he felt Alice’s fingernails digging painfully into his hand. “Ouch,” he whispered.

“You’re going to be mine, Quentin Coldwater,” Alice said. “You’ll go where I want you to go, look the way I want you to look. You’ll be my perfect spouse. You’ll raise our children and together we’ll build a strong magical family that will rule this town.”

“Yes,” Quentin replied slowly, carefully pulling his hand out of Alice’s grasp. He glanced down at his hand and noticed that Alice had dug her nails in so hard she’d drawn blood.

“Ms. Quinn.” Porter appeared as if by magic in the drawing room. “I have just received a message from your mother - there is a small problem with the tailor creating your suit.”

“Ugh!” Alice stood and moved around the table, pressing a perfunctory kiss to the top of Quentin’s head. “I’ll see you soon, Quentin.”

The second the door closed behind Alice, Quentin grabbed the scissors and raced up to his room. He dropped the scissors on the bed and went to the bathroom to treat his hand.

“Q?” Margo appeared in the bathroom and leaned against the doorway. “Are you okay?”

Quentin shook his head. “Alice gave me a gift,” he muttered as he dabbed at the small cuts on his hand. He jumped when Margo was suddenly at his side, his hand in hers.

“This is a gift?” Margo said angrily.

Quentin winced. “No,” he said, “she gave me an actual gift. This is a side effect of her … possessiveness.” He sighed softly at Margo’s gentle touch, at the soft spell she murmured that took away the pain from his hand.

“What a bitch,” Margo muttered as she finished bandaging Quentin’s hand. “What did she give you?”

“I’ll show you,” Quentin said. He stood and led the way into the bedroom, sat on the bed and passed Margo the scissors.

“Presumptuous twat,” Margo muttered, frowning at the scissors.

“She’ll have the right once we’re married,” Quentin said.

“We won’t let her,” Margo said.

“She said she’s going to cut my hair shorter than Penny’s,” Quentin whispered.

“Bitch!” Margo said, pulling Quentin in for a hug, gently stroking his hair. “I’m sorry, sweatpea. But it’s not going to happen. Crazy bitch won’t get her hands on your hair.”

“Can you … can you get Eliot?”

“Yeah, I’ll go get him and sneak him up the back,” Margo said, pressing a kiss to Quentin’s hair before climbing off the bed and disappearing down the back stairs.

Quentin kicked the scissors off the bed and curled up under a blanket, covering his head with a pillow. He didn’t know how long he laid there, but he sighed when he felt the bed dip.

“I don’t want to cut my hair,” Quentin whispered.

“No one’s going to make you,” Eliot replied softly.

“Alice will,” Quentin said, “said she’s gonna cut my hair shorter than Penny’s.”

“Not going to happen,” Eliot said. “Penny’s found us a car and he and Kady are working on the spells to make it nice and comfy inside.”

“What about an apartment? Or jobs?”

“Getting there,” Eliot said, carding his hand through Quentin’s hair.

Quentin hummed and leaned into Eliot’s touch. “Alice hurt my hand today,” he whispered.

“I wondered about the bandage,” Eliot said. “You okay?”

“She wants me to be hers,” Quenttin said. 

“Not going to happen,” Eliot murmured. “We’re not going to let her put a ring on your finger.”

* * * 

“What do you think of the ruching?”

Quentin knew the question wasn’t directed at him. He stood there on a little pedestal while Alice, Alice’s mother Stephanie and Iris all stood in a circle around him. 

“I think it’s lovely,” Alice said. “And the lavender is a nice touch.”

“I thought so,” Iris said. “And it will match the flowers perfectly.”

Quentin just barely resisted the urge to sigh; the day after Thanksgiving and he was stuck in a dress shop having another fitting for his wedding dress. And, though it was a beautiful dress, if Quentin had any opinions about it none of the women around him would listen to him.

“Too bad he doesn’t have pierced ears,” Stephanie commented. “I think I have the perfect pair of earrings.”

“We thought about doing it when Quentin was younger,” Iris said.

“It’s not too late to do it now,” Alice said. 

Quentin blinked and pretended he was the mindless dummy the women apparently thought he was.

“No, let’s not,” Iris said. “His ears stick out a bit and I would hate to bring attention to them.”

“You’re right,” Alice agreed.

Quentin relaxed a bit as the women turned their attention back to the gown he was wearing.

“And I do love the long sleeves in the creme knit,” Stephanie said.

“It will help keep the chill out while in the temple,” Iris said, “and the fabric for the skirt is nice and heavy as well to keep Quentin warm.”

It was small comfort to Quentin that they were thinking of his future comfort even while they were blatantly ignoring him.

“Perhaps instead of earrings, a silver filigree comb with the veil?” Stephanie suggested. 

“That would be lovely,” Iris said.

“We have some filigree combs in the back.” The seamstress seemed to appear out nowhere and escorted the two mothers to the back of the shop, leaving Quentin and Alice alone.

“I’m looking forward to our wedding,” Alice said.

“As am I,” Quentin replied softly. 

“I’ll be a good spouse, a good provider for you,” Alice continued.

Quentin nodded as he watched people pass by outside the dress shop window. After a few moments he saw Kady pass by and smiled; and when Kady waved hello, Quentin naturally waved back.

The backhand across the face caught him by surprise, and Quentin lifted a hand to his face and turned to look at Alice, who stood glaring at him.

“I told you, no more Kady or Julia,” Alice hissed.

“I was just being nice,” Quentin whispered.

“You’re mine,” Alice said. “Don’t even look at them.”

“O-of course,” Quentin murmured, lowering his gaze, his hand still on his face.

“Quentin, put your arms down, you’ll pull the pins!” Iris appeared and slapped Quentin’s hand down. “The seamstress is taking time out of her day to fit you in and if you lift your arms you’re going to ruin her work!”

“I’m sorry, Mother,” Quentin whispered.

Quentin winced and put his hand down, tuning the women out as the moved around him, talking about him as if he weren’t even there. As if he were a thing.

Once they were done at the dress shop, Quentin was sent home while the women went to meet the caterer to go over the menu and then on to the bakery to taste wedding cakes.

As soon as Quentin got home, he stopped in the kitchen for an ice pack and then went right up to his bathroom where he ran himself a hot bath. He added a bit of sandalwood oil (his mother would kill him if she knew he had it), then stripped and climbed into the tub, sinking up to his neck and placing the ice pack on his cheek.

“Q?”

Quentin barely registered Margo’s voice.

“Quentin?” Margo appeared in the bathroom. “Where’s your mother?”

“With Alice and Alice’s mother meeting with the caterer and tasting cakes,” Quentin muttered. “I wasn’t needed for that.”

“What happened to your face?”

Quentin winced when Margo took the ice pack off his face. “Alice hit me,” he whispered. “She backhanded me when I waved to Kady.”

“Bitch!” Margo hissed. “Why didn’t you heal it?”

Quentin shrugged. “Didn’t think about it.” A few moments later he heard Margo whisper and then felt the sting disappear.

“Well when you’re done come into your room,” Margo said, “Eliot’s here and he has some news.”

“I’ll be out in a minute.”

Once Margo was gone, Quentin drained the tub and stepped out, taking a moment to dry himself off before slipping his robe and going back into his bedroom.

“Alice hit you?”

Quentin jumped a bit as Eliot was suddenly at his side, a hand on his chin.

“I waved at Kady,” Quentin whispered, leaning into Eliot’s touch as Eliot cupped his cheek and ran a thumb across Quentin’s cheekbone.

“Q,” Eliot whispered back.

“I’m okay,” Quentin replied. “Margo healed it for me.”

“Of course she did,” Eliot said.

“So, tell me the news,” Quentin said.

“I found us an apartment,” Eliot said, tugging Quentin over to the bed.

“Really?” Quentin asked.

“Well, Fogg found us an apartment,” Eliot said. “The people are moving out at the end of the year and Fogg told the landlord that he already had a group of people to take over the apartment. We just have to get first and last month’s rent to them by the time they move out and we’re good.”

“How big is the apartment?” Quentin asked as he laid down on the bed.

“It’ll be big enough with a few spells,” Margo said.

“The whole building is filled with magicians,” Eliot said. “That’s how Fogg found the place.”

“That’s great,” Quentin said. “Hey, do my ears stick out?”

“Your ears are adorable,” Eliot replied. “Why? What brought that on?”

“They were talking about piercing my ears,” Quentin said, humming when Eliot covered him with a blanket. “Mother said no because my ears stick out and it would be bad to bring attention to them.”

“You’re perfect and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise,” Eliot said softly.

“Okay,” Quentin mumbled, his eyes drifting closed as he felt Eliot’s fingers in his hair, stroking gently and urging him to sleep.

* * * 

November turned to December and as the wedding got closer and closer, Quentin’s room started filling with wedding gifts, from Brakebills locals and from family all over the world. They started in one corner and began to grown and grow until the gifts filled most of Quentin’s room.

Eventually, Quentin had to open them in order to get rid of all the packaging and hopefully condense the gifts so they didn’t take up so much room. 

Of course he invited Eliot to sneak over and help him unwrap gifts.

“How many gifts did they send?” Eliot asked as he flopped down on Quentin’s bed.

“Far too many,” Quentin muttered. “I’m running out of room.”

“You can’t send them to Alice’s?” Eliot asked.

“I can send them to a storage unit after I open them,” Quentin replied.

“Well, let’s get opening then,” Eliot said.

They started to work their way through the gifts, tossing the wrapping paper into the trashcan and creating a pile of gifts to be sent to the storage unit.

“Well, this is an interesting gift,” Quentin said. It was a statue of a woman, about two feet tall, ceramic and painted a multitude of colors. 

“Macha,” Eliot said.

“Bless you?” Quentin said, blushing when Eliot shot him an amused smile.

“Macha,” Eliot said again. “Honestly, didn’t you take history of gods and goddesses? Such an easy course. Macha is an Irish goddess. She’s a sovereignty goddess, mostly associated with land, kingship, war, horses … “

“And?” Quentin urged.

“Fertility,” Eliot said. “She primarily concerned herself with male fertility.”

“Fertility,” Quentin repeated. “Do you think anyone would miss it if I throw it against a wall?”

“The person who gave it to you and might visit your humble abode and hope to see it displayed prominently,” Eliot said.

“Fine,” Quentin said and set is with the other opened gifts. 

“Most of these really aren’t for you,” Eliot commented as they worked their way through more presents. “It’s something to be displayed in the house and be conversation pieces.”

“I guess,” Quentin muttered.

They worked their way through more gifts until they got to one that was so large, they couldn’t even move it working together. Quentin worked to remove the wrapping paper and then the two of them pried open the box. One look at its contents had Eliot rolling on the floor laughing.

“I can’t … that is the most horrendously perfect thing ever!” Eliot said between laughs.

Quentin stared at the statue and frowned. It was a very large sculpture of a … a female wolf. With a human man nursing at her teat. The whole sculpture stood four feet tall and was incredibly detailed. Quentin went over to the bed, found a large blanket and covered the statue.

“That is horrifying,” Quentin muttered. “I’m sorry I opened that.”

“I’m not,” Eliot said. “Highly entertaining gift. It’s probably a ripoff of the Capitoline Wolf, the one who nursed Romulus and Remus.”

“Right,” Quentin said. “Still creepy and still sorry I opened it.”

“Okay, well let’s open a few more and see if we can find anything worth making fun of,” Eliot said.

Quentin sighed and opened some more gifts - there were cookbooks, magic tomes and a few more sculptures and art pieces. Quentin reached for another box, ripped away the wrapping paper and stared down at the ornately engraved wood box.

“Someone spent a lot of time on that,” Eliot said, looking over Quentin’s shoulder at the box.

“Yeah,” Quentin said as he lifted the lid. He spent a minute staring down at the contents of the box, his stomach falling. “Oh.”

Inside the box, lying on a pillow of purple velvet, was a solid wood dildo. It was long, with a small knob at the end and had a bright sheen to it. Quentin swallowed as he continued to stare down at the box; he knew what it was for, what it meant. 

A standard Brakebills wedding night started with the husband being shorn by the wife and ended with the wife taking the husband. In all ways. 

A dildo was a common wedding present … which Quentin had forgotten about until that very moment.

“I don’t want to open anymore presents,” Quentin whispered. He barely registered Eliot tugging him to his feet and pulling him over to the bed. Quentin flopped down, humming softly when he felt the bed dip next to him. He snuggled into Eliot’s embrace and sighed when he felt Eliot gently rubbing his back.

“It’s probably birch,” Quentin mumbled. “To promote fertility.”

“We could burn it,” Eliot suggested.

“Can’t,” Quentin mumbled. “Someone’ll ask about it and if Alice never knew about it then we’ll have a big problem.”

“It would have made a beautiful fire,” Eliot said softly.

“Eliot? Promise me something.” Quentin said.

“Anything,” Eliot replied.

“Promise me that Alice will never get to use that thing on me,” Quentin whispered.

“I promise.”

Quentin hummed when he felt Eliot press a kiss to his hair and burrowed deeper into Eliot’s embrace. Eliot would keep him safe.

* * * 

The next few weeks passed slowly. Quentin celebrated both the Winter Solstice and Christmas with his and Alice’s parents. The closer they got to the date of the wedding, the less and less he saw of Kady, Penny, Eliot and Margo.

They’d talked to him before, warned Quentin that they were finishing plans and getting things ready at their new apartment, pinning down jobs for everyone.

But the closer they got, the more worried Quentin became that it wasn’t going to happen in time.

That Quentin was going to be stuck marrying Alice.

Suddenly they were days before the wedding. His friends were nowhere to be seen and Quentin felt utterly alone.

“Quentin, darling,” Iris said when Quentin made his way down the stairs the Thursday before his wedding.

“Mother,” Quentin murmured, letting her kiss his cheek.

“I’ve arranged for a little surprise for you,” Iris said.

“A surprise?” Quentin wasn’t sure he wanted a surprise from his mother.

Iris smiled and nodded. “Put your shoes on,” she said. “We’re going into town.”

Quentin shoved his feet into his shoes and grabbed his coat and scarf. “I’m ready to go,” he said.

“Wonderful!” Iris said. “Best be on our way.”

Quentin followed his mother out to the car, then watched out the window as they rode into town. When the car finally came to a stop, Quentin glanced up at the storefront and blinked.

“A salon?” Quentin asked.

“A salon and spa,” Iris said. “Alice thought, and I agreed, that you deserved a little pampering before your big day.”

“Oh,” Quentin said “How kind of you both.”

“Well, I have a few last minute things to work out at the temple, so go on in and they’ll get you all sorted out,” Iris said.

Quentin nodded and exited the car, not at all surprised that his mother would leave him alone. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his coat, took a deep breath and entered the salon.

“Welcome to Turning Heads, how can I help you?”

Quentin unwrapped his scarf as he shyly approached the receptionist. “Hello,” he said. “My name is Quentin Coldwater and I apparently have an appointment?”

“Oh Mr. Coldwater! We’ve been expecting you. We have a whole day planned out for you!”

Quentin jumped when the receptionist grabbed his hand and dragged him in the salon, practically shoving him into a changing room with a pair of shorts and a robe. He changed, tying the robe tightly around his midsection, then stepped hesitantly out into the hallway.

“Hello?” Quentin called softly.

“Mr. Coldwater, this way please!”

Quentin frowned at how chipper everyone at the salon was as they passed him from station to station. He endured a manicure, pedicure, facial, and eyebrow waxing before ending up sitting in a salon chair staring at his reflection while a woman flitted around him.

“I’m Cypress and I’ll be your stylist today and on the day of your wedding.”

Quentin gave the woman a timid smile and nod. “Nice to meet you,” he said.

“Now, your fiance and your mother met with me earlier this week to talk about what they wanted,” Cypress said. “And it’s something we can accomplish with a mix of standard salon techniques and a little magic. So, you ready to go?”

“As ready I’m going to be,” Quentin replied with a shrug.

“Perfect,” Cypress said.

Quentin sighed softly and watched as Cypress caped him, combed out his hair, and then proceeded to cover his hair in a bunch of goop and foils. Quentin felt his head tingle a bit as he watched Cypress in the mirror as she cast a spell on him.

“What was that?” Quentin asked.

“A little spell to speed things up a bit,” Cypress said. “Nothing to worry about, Mr. Coldwater.”

Quentin frowned a bit at Cypress’ slightly patronizing tone, but didn’t comment any further. HIs mother and Alice had decided everything for him - he didn’t really have a choice anymore. He let Cypress lead him over to the sinks where she washed his hair for him before leading him back to the the chair.

“It’s white!” Quentin squeaked when he sat down and saw white streaks throughout his hair.

“Only for now,” Cypress said. “Ms. Quinn wanted white, but your mother talked her into something else. Now sit tight and watch the magic.”

Quentin gripped the armrests of the salon chair, watched in the mirror as Cypress cast another spell and gasped softly when the white streaks turned lavender.

“Purple,” Quentin whispered.

“The exact color of the corset of your dress,” Cypress said. “Isn’t it stunning?”

“It’s lovely,” Quentin said. 

“And it turned out exactly the way we talked about,” Cypress said. “Now, I’m just going to dry your hair and pull it back for you for your next appointment.”

“I have another appointment?” Quentin asked.

“One more.”

Quentin bit his lip nervously as he watched Cypress finish his hair, drying it and putting it up in a crown like braid on his head.

“It’s definitely out of the way,” Quentin said when Cypress was done.

“Yep and it’s also super adorable,” Cypress said. “Do you need an escort to your next appointment?”

“Please,” Quentin said. “I’m not sure where I’m supposed to be going.”

“Of course,” Cypress said as she removed Quentin’s cape. “Follow me.”

Quentin followed Cypress all the way to the back of the salon. He stepped into a small room and stopped suddenly when he saw the large padded table … with straps.

“What is this?” Quentin whispered.

“Ms. Quinn has made a very special request,” Cypress said. “And Etta will be in shortly to take care of you. Before she comes you should strip and lay down on the table on your back.”

Before Quentin could respond, Cypress left and closed the door behind her. What could Alice want that would require … Quentin knew that resisting would get back to Alice, which would end badly. Quentin closed his eyes, tugged off his shorts and robes and climbed onto the table, trying to keep from hyperventilating.

The door finally opened and a woman entered. She closed the door securely behind her and turned to face Quentin.

“I’m Etta. Do you know why you’re here?”

“No, ma’am,” Quentin said softly.

“We were contacted by Ms. Quinn who had a specific request for you,” Etta said.

“Okay,” Quentin said.

“She’s requested that we shave you,” Etta said.

Quentin blushed bright red when Etta directed her gaze to his crotch.

“Oh,” Quentin whispered.

“Precisely,” Etta said. “So please make yourself comfortable and we’ll get started.”

Comfortable. There was no way Quentin could be comfortable, but he shifted around a bit on the table until he felt as comfortable as he could.

“Now,” Etta said, “I have found that most young men don’t react well during their first time. They tend to move, to wiggle.”

“I won’t -” Quentin started.

“But you will,” Etta said, “as all young men do their first time. So we will make sure you don’t move and I will brook no argument.”

Quentin blinked and swallowed. “Y-yes, ma’am,” he whispered. He watched as Etta quickly and efficiently began strapping him to the table. First a strap across his shoulders, then one that across his torso, which bound his arms to the table as well. Another strap went across his lower abdomen, biting into his wrists a little. Etta moved lower, spreading the legs of the table and strapping each of Quentin’s legs down, leaving him open and vulnerable.

“Now,” Etta said as she sat down between Quentin’s legs and pulled a trolley over, “I expect you to be a good lad and be quiet while I work. I’ve had some other lad start crying and I won’t have any of that nonsense in my room. So if you start that I warn you that I will gag you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Quentin whispered meekly, biting his lip when Etta pat him on the thigh.

“That’s a good boy.”

Quentin closed his eyes and tried to think about something else, anything else while Etta was … shaving him. All he could hear was Etta humming as she worked and the sound of razor against skin scraping away. He couldn’t help but whimper softly and bit his lip to keep from being too loud. He didn’t want Etta to gag him.

Quentin gave a little sigh of relief when he felt Etta rubbing lotion into his freshly shaven skin.

“And I’m all done,” Etta said as she undid the straps which bound Quentin to the table. “And you were one of my quietest. Such a good boy.”

Quentin gave Etta a meek smile as he climbed off the table and put his shorts and robe back on. “Thank you, ma’am,” he whispered.

“Now you can go back to the dressing room and change back into your street clothes and go home,” Etta said. “Ms. Quinn has already contacted me about making a regular schedule for you with me.”

Quentin just nodded and made his way back to the dressing room where he changed into his street clothes. He stepped out of the salon to find a car waiting for him, which drove him straight home where Quentin raced up to his room and climbed under his covers.

“Please, please, please,” Quentin whispered, “let them come rescue me.”

* * * 

The morning of Quentin’s wedding dawned bright and clear, cold with a light dusting of snow on the ground. The sun had just risen when Quentin was woken up to begin preparing for the ceremony.

It wasn’t even Margo who got Quentin out of bed - Quentin’s mother had fired her on Alice’s order and was looking to hire someone new to be Quentin’s valet once he was moved in with Alice.

But on the morning of his wedding, Quentin was woken up by Cypress and two of her coworkers from the salon.

“Good morning, Mr. Coldwater,” Cypress said. “Time to get up and get ready!”

Quentin yawned as he rolled out of bed and shuffled over to the bathroom. Someone had run him a bath and the scent of lavender almost knocked him over. Quentin put his hair up in a messy bun, stripped and stepped into the tub, sinking in the water up to his chin.

Quentin was trying to remain hopeful, that Eliot would show up soon. But he hadn’t heard from anyone in days and his hope was fading.

Quentin soaked in the tub for as long as he dared before getting out, drying off and wrapping himself in his robe.

Cypress and her coworkers were patiently waiting for him in the bedroom.

“Mr. Coldwater, please take a seat,” Cypress said. “We’re going to do your hair first before you get dressed.”

Quentin sighed as he sat down at his vanity, eyeing all the equipment that had been laid out warily.

“Alice and I worked to create a truly beautiful style for you,” Cypress said as she took Quentin’s bun down.

“Mmmhmm,” Quentin hummed as he watched Cypress work, first with a comb and bobby pins, then with a curling iron and more bobby pins. He’d been a bit curious about the length of lavender ribbon he’d seen on the vanity and frowned a bit when he felt some tugging at the back of his head. 

“We’ll attach the veil with the comb after you’re dressed, but … voila!” 

Quentin’s eyes widened when he focused his attention on the mirror, catching sight of the back of his hair in the large mirror Cypress held up behind him. The top of his head was mass of intricately arranged and pinned curls, the lavender pieces standing out against the brown. And the back of his head … the lavender ribbon he’d seen on the vanity had been worked into his hair, laying across the back of his head like a … like a corset.

“It’s lovely,” Quentin said softly.

“Isn’t it just?” Cypress said as she set the mirror down. “Now come, come, must get you dressed! We’re running a bit behind schedule - your hair took a bit longer than expected.”

Quentin nodded as he stood and moved over to the bed where his wedding dress, undergarments and shoes were all laid out for him.

He started with the garter belt first, then the thigh high white silk stockings that he carefully attached to the belt. Over that went lavender boxer briefs and then a white silk chemise.

“You really should have put the garter on over the underwear,” Cypress said. “More aesthetically pleasing.”

“But harder for me to pee,” Quentin pointed out. “And I doubt many people are going to be looking under my dress.”

“Suit yourself,” Cypress said with a shrug. “Best finish getting dressed.”

Quentin nodded and let Cypress and the other two workers help him finish getting dressed. First a knit white long sleeved wrap sweater, then the heavy full white skirt with a slight train. Over the sweater went the lavender ruched corset that matched both the streaks in his hair and the ribbon in his hair.

“Now, Ms. Quinn made a request for the corset,” Cypress said as she began to tighten the laces.

“Oh?” Quentin asked, then gasped as he felt the laces tighten, and then tighten some more. He could feel the boning of the corset pressed tight against his ribs, squeezing almost to the point where he couldn’t breathe.

“It’s a spell,” Cypress said. “Tightens it more than I could with just the laces - really emphasizes your waist. Take shallow breaths, Mr. Coldwater, and you’ll be just fine.”

Quentin nodded and took some shallow breaths, trying to get used to the tightness of the corset.

“Now, we’ll just attach the veil and off we go!”

Quentin stood still as they women approached him with the veil and the comb - two crescent moons on either side of a beautiful purple stone in a sterling silver brooch setting. The veil was set where the curls met the ribbon corset and secured with the comb.

“Oh Quentin!”

Quentin turned to see his mother standing in the doorway of his bedroom.

“Mother,” Quentin said, a bit breathless due to the corset.

“You look lovely,” Iris said. “We have the car outside waiting.”

Quentin nodded, lifting his skirt a bit so he could step into a pair of lavender heels, then proceeded to follow his mother down the stairs and out to the car, where they rode through town to the temple of Demeter.

The closer they got to the temple, the more despondent Quentin got.

His friends weren’t going to save him. They weren’t going to get there in time.

The car came to a stop and Iris stepped out first, then helped Quentin out of the car.

“You look lovely, sweetheart,” Iris said.

“Thank you, Mother,” Quentin said.

“Now, I’m going to go inside and take my seat,” Iris said. “When you hear the music, that’s your cue.”

Quentin nodded, watching as his mother hurried into the temple. He took a few deep breaths, heard the music start and stepped into the temple, staring at the rows and rows of people waiting. He glanced down the aisle and saw Alice at the end with the officiant waiting for him at the altar. Quentin took a hesitant step, then another, and another.

He made it about halfway down the aisle when he heard it.

“Quentin!”

Eliot’s voice almost made Quentin break down into tears. Quentin turned slowly and locked eyes with Eliot, who gave him a warm smile.

“Sorry, traffic was a bitch,” Eliot said. “Ready to get out of here?”

“Quentin Makepeace Coldwater, don’t you dare!” Iris called from the front row.

Out of the corner of his eye, Quentin saw some of the attendees stand, fingers moving.

“I’m sorry, anyone else here just graduate with a degree in battle magic?” Kady appeared at Eliot’s side, sparks flying from her fingers. “Didn’t think so.”

“Quentin?” Eliot’s voice was calm, soothing. “Let’s go.”

Quentin turned back to face his mother and Alice. “This isn’t the life I want,” he said. “This was the life you wanted, Mother, the life you wanted for me. But I’m not going to let you rule my life anymore. You either, Alice. I’m leaving, and I’m not coming back.”

Quentin turned and made his way down the aisle towards the exit as quickly as his shoes and tightened corset would allow. The second he was at Eliot’s side, Eliot picked him up and ran with him out to the car, Kady fast behind them.

“Wouldn’t trust them to not throw some spells at us,” Eliot said. “You doing okay, Q?”

“You came,” Quentin said breathlessly. “You came.”

“Just like I said we would,” Eliot whispered.

“Thank you,” Quentin whispered back.

“Gush later, move now,” Kady said, giving Eliot a shove.

They reached the car and Quentin stared; it was a rundown four door sedan that looked like it had seen better days.

“Don’t judge it by the outside,” Kady said as she opened the back door to let Eliot and Quentin in.

“Quentin, you’re looking lovely,” Margo said from the backseat.

“Thanks,” Quentin said, taking a few moments to take in his surroundings as Kady climbed into the front seat with Penny and the car took off. Although the car was only a four door sedan from the outside, inside there were three rows of plush seats - Kady and Penny were in the front and Margo was in the second row, leaving the last row for Quentin and Eliot.

“Are you okay?” Eliot asked. “You’re looking a little … bound.”

“It’s the dress,” Quentin said as he tried to get comfortable in the backseat. “They spelled it to be tighter than normal.”

“Fuck,” Eliot said. “Turn and let me help you.”

“Before I was fired, I took the liberty of sneaking off with your jeans and sandals,” Margo said. “We also got you some t-shirts, a coat and a pair of sneakers.”

“Figured when we got settled you could shop for some of your own things,” Eliot said softly.

“I … thank you,” Quentin said softly.

“Okay, now don’t move,” Eliot said as he eyed Quentin’s back.

A few minutes later, Quentin felt the corset loosen and he groaned, falling back against Eliot. He hummed softly as he felt Eliot remove the comb keeping the veil in place from his hair.

“Fuck, they corseted your hair, too? And are those lavender streaks?”

“To match the corset,” Quentin murmured.

“Okay, well, let’s get you out of all of this so you can relax,” Eliot said, passing Quentin the jeans, t-shirt, coat and sneakers.

Quentin nodded and began to get undressed, setting everything aside. He managed to figure out how to get the garter off without getting completely naked, then tugged the jeans and sneakers on.

“Might be easier to put the shirt on after my hair’s down,” Quentin said, clutching the t-shirt to his chest.

“I’m happy to oblige,” Eliot replied.

Quentin hummed as he felt Eliot’s fingers in his hair, deftly undoing the intricate style Quentin’s hair had been coerced into. As the ribbon and pins were removed, Quentin hummed happily as the tension slowly left his neck and head. He whimpered softly when he felt Eliot running his hands through his hair, rubbing gently at Quentin’s scalp to ease the soreness.

Quentin took a moment to tug his t-shirt on before turning to face Eliot.

“There’s my Q,” Eliot murmured.

“Hey El, I -” Before he could second guess himself, Quentin leaned in and pressed his lips to Eliot’s in a chaste kiss. He pulled back and ducked his head shyly, not willing to meet Eliot’s eyes.

“Q,” Eliot whispered softly.

Quentin felt Eliot lifting his chin so they were eye to eye, then Eliot’s hand was at the back of his head pulling Quentin in for another kiss, this one not quite as chaste as Quentin’s and full of pent-up emotion.

“Fucking finally,” Penny said from his place behind the steering wheel.

“Shh, they’re having a moment,” Margo said.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” Eliot murmured. 

Quentin blushed and nodded. “Same,” he replied.

“Things just got so fucked up and stupid Brakebills with its stupid traditions,” Eliot said, leaning in to give Quentin another kiss. “All I knew was that I needed to get you out of there.”

“And you did,” Quentin replied. “All of you did, thank you.”

“We weren’t going to leave you there,” Kady said.

“Although you really did cut it close,” Quentin said.

“Traffic from the city was shit,” Margo said. “We didn’t account for it and it added some unwanted time onto our trip. But that’s all in the past - you’re here with us and about to embark on a new life!”

Quentin smiled as he felt Eliot take his hand and give it a squeeze.

“Can’t wait.”

* * * 

“You need to get out of the apartment,” Kady said, staring down at Quentin.

“Wait, what? I just -”

“Not like that,” Kady said. “But you need to stop hiding in here. There’s a whole city out there to explore and all you’ve done the past week since we’ve been here is stay here in the apartment.”

“You guys all have your jobs and -”

“You’re scared to leave the apartment by yourself,” Penny said appearing at Kady’s side. “You’re scared your mother or Alice is going to show up here and steal you back. Also, you are having some seriously nasty thoughts about Eliot - geez, we’re going to train you on your mental wards this weekend.”

“Nasty thoughts about Eliot, huh?” Kady said, winking at Quentin.

“Epically nasty,” Penny said. “Come on, Kady, we’re gonna be late.”

“Just run down to the corner market and get some more milk for the apartment,” Kady said. “Margo left a warm coat, hat, gloves and scarf for you - she’ll be sad if you didn’t put them to good use.”

Before Quentin could reply, Kady and Penny were both gone, leaving him alone. Quentin stood and walked a slow path through the apartment. According to the lease agreement it was only a one bedroom apartment, but this was a building that catered to Magicians. A few well cast spells turned the one bedroom into a three bedroom with a large kitchen and an even larger living room.

Kady and Penny shared a room, Margo got her own room and Eliot and Quentin … with the kisses in the car on the ride into the city, it was assumed that they would share a room, and they did. They slept in the same bed, cuddled together.

They were moving slow, and for that Quentin was really grateful. After everything that had happened in Brakebills, Quentin was perfectly okay with slow.

For now.

Quentin made his way back into the living room and stared at the coat, hat, gloves and scarf laying on the couch.

“It’s just going down the street,” Quentin said. “To get milk. I can do this.”

He tugged on the gloves, coat, scarf and hat, made sure he had his wallet and keys and hesitantly made his way from the apartment down the street to the market.

Quentin tried to remain calm during his walk down the street, not to look at every single person and pray it wasn’t his mother or Alice. Once inside the market, Quentin spent a few minutes meandering down the aisles, just looking at everything the market offered. He knew he needed to get milk, so he went to the cold section and got half a gallon of milk, then made his way over to the register, stopping along the way to grab a small bouquet of flowers.

The walk back to the apartment after he paid for his purchases was a bit better for Quentin, having survived the walk there and his time in the market. Once back inside the apartment, Quentin put the milk in the fridge and the flowers in a vase on the kitchen table before putting his coat, hat, gloves and scarves on the loveseat and laying down on the couch to wait for Eliot and everyone else to come home.

“Hi honey, we’re home!” Margo called later on that day when she and Eliot arrived home from their jobs. “Someone got flowers!”

“I, um, went to the corner market to get milk,” Quentin said as he sat up on the couch.

“You, went to the market?” Margo said. “You mean you left the apartment?”

Quentin blushed and nodded, ducking his head shyly.

“You okay?” Eliot asked as he sat down next to Quentin.

“Just walked down the street,” Quentin said.

“Yes, and I know exactly what this city looks like to someone who has only been here a week,” Eliot replied.

“I’m okay,” Quentin said, leaning against Eliot, tucking his head on Eliot’s shoulder.

“You did good,” Eliot said. “I’m proud of you.”

“For going down the street?” Quentin said.

“For venturing out into a new city by yourself,” Eliot said, pressing a kiss to Quentin’s hair.

Quentin hummed happily and snuggled against Eliot.

“I want to order pizza,” Margo said. “And Quentin, since you’re okay going out into the city, maybe we can talk about a shopping trip for you? You need more than one pair of jeans and three t-shirts.”

“We won’t make you go alone,” Eliot said.

“Of course not!” Margo said. “Q needs supervision to pick his own clothes.”

Quentin frowned. “I can pick my own clothes,” he said.

“Who’s been picking your clothes recently?” Margo asked.

“You,” Quentin muttered.

“There you go,” Margo said.

“Don’t worry,” Eliot murmured, “you’ll have a lot of say in what we buy.”

“Good,” Quentin said, “and no corsets.”

“No corsets,” Eliot said, chuckling softly.

Quentin smiled as he felt Eliot’s hand slip under the back of his shirt, stroking his back gently as they discussed what toppings they wanted on their pizza.

* * * 

“Second hand shopping?” Quentin asked, wrinkling his nose.

“Now, now, none of that,” Margo said, swatting Quentin on the ass. “Buffalo Exchange is one of the best consignment shops in the city and we’re on a tight budget. You still don’t have a job of your own yet, so everyone chipped in a bit to help get you started.”

“Plus, you can get everything from generic brands to designer labels,” Eliot said, pressing a kiss to Quentin’s cheek.

“I’m just used to -”

“More, we know,” Eliot said. “It’s an adjustment.”

Quentin blushed a bit and nodded, clinging to Eliot’s hand as they started to peruse the racks. He’d been in New York City for three weeks and was still getting used to … everything. Living on a budget had been hard; Quentin was still trying to get used to it. Having grown up with everything, it was an adjustment to suddenly have nothing.

Everyone else adjusted quickly, having grown up differently than Quentin, and they were all helping Quentin adapt. They were even helping him look for a job.

“What do you think about this?”

Quentin turned to look at Margo and eyed the shirt she was holding; it was a faded black t-shirt that said ‘Magicians Do It With Their Hands’ in white across the front.

“It’s funny,” Eliot said. 

“I think you should get it,” Margo said.

“We can put it in the maybe pile,” Quentin said.

“You’d look cute in it,” Eliot said, pressing a kiss to Quentin’s hair.

“Maybe,” Quentin murmured, blushing a bit. “What about this one?” He grabbed a white short sleeved button-up with little palm trees on it.

“Cute,” Margo said. “That one is okay.”

“You should get this one,” Eliot said, passing a slightly stretchy smallish purple v-neck.

“Isn’t this a little small?” Quentin said as he held the shirt up to look at it.

“Nope, it’s perfect,” Eliot said, wrapping his arms around Quentin, tugging him close.

“Okay,” Quentin said after a few moments, leaning back against Eliot. “I’ll get it.”

“Only if you like it,” Eliot said. “Your choices.”

“Your supervised choices,” Margo said. “But I approve of all the shirts so far. Now stop cuddling and go shop.”

“They’re just clothes,” Quentin said as he extricated himself from Eliot’s embrace and went back to looking through the racks.

“No, they’re not just clothes,” Margo said. “You are creating a style, your personal style.”

“Someone else has always picked your clothes,” Eliot said softly. “So you were wearing what they thought your style should be.”

“But you guys are picking my clothes now,” Quentin said as he grabbed a couple of pairs of pants off a rack and checked the sizes.

“No, you’re picking them and we’re offering suggestions and telling you when something is completely horrendous and should not be put on your body,” Margo said.

“There’s a difference,” Eliot said. 

“If you say so,” Quentin replied. 

“We do,” Margo said. “Now go, shop.”

He, Eliot and Margo spent some time moving through the shop, grabbing items he liked, before Quentin grabbed all the clothes and took them to the register.

“I almost forgot,” Quentin said as the three of them watched the clerk ring up the clothes, “I got a job.”

“You did?” Margo asked.

“Penny’s boss knows a guy who owns a small repair shop that caters to magicians,” Quentin said. “And he’s been looking for someone to help him out.”

“Someone who just graduated with a degree in the mending of small things?” Margo said.

“Precisely,” Quentin said. “I start Monday.”

“That’s great!” Eliot said, pressing a kiss to Quentin’s cheek as Margo passed money over to the clerk to pay for their purchases. “We should celebrate!”

“We should buy some booze and have a party at the apartment,” Margo said, passing bags over to Eliot and Quentin.

“We should,” Eliot agreed.

“Actually,” Quentin said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was wondering if, after I get my first paycheck in a couple of weeks, um, if you, I mean you Eliot not you Margo, if you wanted to go out. On a date. With me.”

“I would be honored,” Eliot said, leaning down and kissing Quentin sweetly.

“You’re adorable,” Margo said, shoving another bag at Quentin. “And I’m proud of you for asking, Quentin.”

Quentin blushed and ducked his head. “I wanted to have a job before I asked you out, so I can pay,” he said. “I mean I don’t know how much I’m getting paid yet, but -”

“It’ll be great,” Eliot said.

“Not like you two haven’t already been dating forever,” Margo said as she shoved them out of the store and out onto the street. “I mean, you two are sickeningly domestic.”

“Sickeningly?” Quentin asked.

“It’s actually adorable,” Margo said.

“I’m so glad you find us adorable,” Eliot said. “Now I do believe you mentioned booze?”

“I did,” Margo said, “so let’s hit the market by the apartment and stock up so we can celebrate Quentin having a job!”

“Drunken stupors all around,” Quentin said as they headed in the direction of the apartment. 

* * * 

Quentin found, after a bit of an adjustment period, that he loved his job. He worked at a small storefront a few blocks from the apartment with a nice older gentleman; Augustine knew the Coldwater name and the whispers that came along with, but hadn’t held anything against Quentin. They worked well together, Augustine and Quentin, finding a rhythm and a shorthand after only a few days working together. Augustine knew how timid and shy Quentin was, so for the most part he let Quentin work in the back room.

Slowly but surely though, Augustine was helping Quentin to get over his shyness, to interact with the customers.

Quentin was starting to come out of his shell, but as he got closer to his first paycheck, and his first real date with Eliot, he worried that his nerves would ruin everything.

“Hey Margo?” Quentin poked his head into Margo’s room one afternoon after a short shift at work.

“Q!” Margo said, beckoning for Quentin to come sit on the bed with her. “You’re home early.”

“It was a slow day so Augustine let me go home early,” Quentin said as he sat down.

“And he really doesn’t mind the streaks?” Margo asked.

Quentin shook his head as he twirled a lock of hair. The purple streaks had started to grow out a bit, but had yet to fade. Everyone in the apartment had offered to help with a spell to undo the purple streaks, but Quentin liked them. For now. 

“Nope,” Quentin said.

“Well that’s good,” Margo said. “You’re getting your first paycheck soon, right?”

“This coming Friday,” Quentin said. “Penny and Kady took me to the bank to help me set up a savings and checking account.”

“That was nice of them,” Margo said. “Are you ready for your date with Eliot?”

“No,” Quentin replied, “not at all. I don’t know where to go or what to do or what to wear …”

“Well, I can help you with that,” Margo said. “But I had another conversation topic in mind. What do you know about sex?”

Quentin stared at Margo for a few minutes - he was mostly used to her bluntness but sometimes he was still thrown for a loop. “Wh-what?”

“Sex, sweetpea,” Margo said. “What do you know about sex?”

“I had the classes in school growing up,” Quentin said.

“That’s it?” Margo said. “Oh Q, your education is sorely lacking. We have to fix that.”

Quentin watched as Margo reached under her bed and pulled out a shoebox and dumped its contents on the bed. It was filled with … a lot of things that Quentin didn’t recognize, along with a few magazines and books.

“We’ll start simple,” Margo said, grabbing something from the pile and putting it in Quentin’s lap. “Do you know what this is?”

“I know what it looks like,” Quentin said, feeling his cheeks warm in embarrassment. 

“It’s a dildo,” Margo said. “It’s a rubber penis.”

Quentin squeaked and practically threw it off his lap.

“No,” Margo said, putting the dildo back on Quentin’s lap. “Don’t do that. Eliot is in your life, you two are sharing a bed, and I see the way you look at each other. The sexual tension between you two is so thick that Penny, Kady and I can all feel it and are bracing ourselves for when you two finally fuck.”

Quentin blushed some more and stared down at the dildo in his lap, hesitantly putting his hand on it and wrapping his fingers around the end.

“You’ve touched yourself, right?” Margo asked.

Quentin bit his lip and nodded. “Yeah,” he whispered.

“Thinking about Eliot?” Margo continued. “That’s okay, that’s better than okay.”

“I think about him all the time,” Quentin said softly.

“I know, sweetpea,” Margo said, patting Quentin on his shoulder. “Now, you know how sex between a man and a woman works, right? But do you know how sex between two men works?”

Quentin shook his head. “No,” he whispered.

“Well, we have a bit of time before Eliot gets home from work,” Margo said, replacing the dildo on Quentin’s lap with a magazine. “Time to get educated.”

Dinnertime rolled around and Quentin had been well and truly educated on what sex between two men was like. Quentin was still a bit dazed as he re-entered the living room after hearing Eliot, Kady and Penny laughing loudly.

“Q!” Eliot said, pulling Quentin in for a hug. “How was your day?”

“Educational,” Penny supplied with a grin. “He’s so dazed right now his wards are down.”

“You okay?” Eliot asked, pressing a sweet kiss to Quentin’s forehead.

“He got an education today,” Margo said as she joined everyone in the living room. 

“I learned a lot,” Quentin whispered, wrapping his arms around Eliot and resting his cheek on Eliot’s chest.

“Yeah he did,” Penny said. “Boy got himself a bunch of knowledge.”

“Be nice,” Kady said.

“This is me being nice,” Penny said.

“All right, all right,” Margo said. “What are we doing for dinner?”

“Well do we have stuff to make or are we ordering in?” Kady said.

“I went grocery shopping last weekend,” Eliot said, “and got some actual food. So maybe we just make a big pot of pasta and some garlic bread?”

“Sounds good to me,” Margo said. “As the resident cook in the apartment, want to handle it?”

“If I must,” Eliot said, then glanced down at Quentin. “Want to be my sous chef and come tell me about your day?”

Quentin nodded. “Sure,” he said, stepping back and following Eliot into the kitchen.

“Get your wards back up, Q! You’re practically yelling,” Penny said, his tone light and teasing.

“You sure you’re okay,” Eliot asked once he and Quentin were in the kitchen starting to get dinner ready. “Was your day okay?”

“Work was good, but it was slow so Augustine sent me home,” Quentin said. “Then Margo and I had a long talk.”

“About?” Eliot asked as he filled a pot with water and set it to boil.

“Sex,” Quentin whispered. “Between two men.”

“Oh,” Eliot replied. “Coming from Margo that had to have been … very informative.”

“It was,” Quentin said. “I’m still processing.”

“Of course you are,” Eliot said. “But we’re moving at your pace, remember that.”

“Seriously, Q,” Penny yelled from the living room. “Wards!”

“Okay!” Quentin called back, sighing and rubbing his face in frustration.

Eliot laughed and took Quentin’s hands in his. “Okay, deep breaths,” he said. “In, out, in, out. Clear your mind and imagine walls - thick, high walls all around your mind, to keep Penny from hearing your dirty thoughts.”

Quentin laughed but did as Eliot said.

“Thank you!” Penny called.

Quentin laughed and glanced up at Eliot. “Thank you,” he murmured.

“You’re welcome,” Eliot said. “Now come help me make dinner.”

* * * 

“You look really nice,” Quentin said, glancing over at Eliot as the two of them walked down the street. Eliot was dressed in black jeans, black pointy toed boots, a wine colored button up and a heavy black coat - he looked dangerous and elegant and Quentin just wanted to stare.

“Thank you,” Eliot replied as they headed towards the subway. “You look nice too.”

“Margo helped me pick it out,” Quentin said. He’d spent hours rifling through his dresser trying to find something to wear and had finally given up, going to Margo and begging her to help him. He ended up wearing the purple stretchy v-neck Eliot had picked for him when they’d been shopping that first time, and paired it with a pair of dark wash jeans, brown boots and a heavy duty cargo jacket to keep out the lingering chill. A purple scarf and his hair in a simple braid completed the look.

“I like it,” Eliot said. “So, no hints as to where we’re going? Or what’s in the bag?”

“No, I want it to be a surprise,” Quentin said, adjusting the tote bag on his shoulder. “And Penny and Kady helped me with the subways.”

“Okay then, this is your show,” Eliot said, reaching out and taking Quentin’s hand in his.

Quentin loaded up his metrocard and navigated himself and Eliot from subway to subway until they arrived at … 

“Battery Park,” Eliot said softly.

“I thought it would be nice to have a picnic in the park,” Quentin said. “And I might have a couple of other things planned.”

“You might, huh?” Eliot said. “I’m intrigued. Lead on.”

Quentin blushed and led the way into the park, finding a little secluded area where they could sit and eat. He set the bag down and began unpacking it; he laid out the large red plaid blanket and then unpacked the little containers of food, as well as two bottles of beer.

“Bon appetit,” Quentin said as he sat down and motioned for Eliot to join him.

“And what do we have here?” Eliot asked. “And who cooked, because if Margo did -”

“No, I did, and Kady helped me,” Quentin said as he opened the containers. “I made salmon with garlic potatoes and greens.”

“It smells lovely,” Eliot said.

“I hope it tastes as good as it smells,” Quentin said as he passed Eliot a beer and a plastic plate with food.

“I’m sure it will,” Eliot said.

Quentin fixed himself a plate and settled a bit closer to Eliot before digging into dinner. “It’s good,” he said, a little amazed.

“It’s better than good,” Eliot said between bites. “Fucking amazing. You’re going into the cooking rotation now.”

Quentin laughed and nodded. “Okay,” he said. “But all I did was follow a recipe I found.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Eliot replied with a grin. “You can help me plan meals.”

“I’d like that,” Quentin said softly.

The rest of the meal passed in companionable silence, neither man feeling the need for small talk. When they were both done, Quentin quickly cleaned up their mess and bagged everything back up.

“So, where to now?” Eliot asked.

“We’re not going far,” Quentin replied, taking Eliot’s hand in his and leading Eliot through the park.

“The Seaglass Carousel?”

“I thought it would be fun,” Quentin murmured as they came to a stop outside the building that held the carousel. “And, good for a couple on a limited budget.”

“I love it,” Eliot said. “Let’s go.”

Quentin led the way and paid for their ticket and then the two of them waited in line. The sun had set and many of the families had left, leaving just couples waiting. Quentin slipped an arm around Eliot’s waist and tucked himself against Eliot’s side.

“I like this,” Quentin whispered.

“Me too,” Eliot replied. “Think we could fit into one of those things and ride it together?”

“It would probably be a tight squeeze,” Quentin said. “I don’t know if they’ll let us.”

“Well maybe next time,” Eliot said.

The ride on the Seaglass Carousel was actually really fun. Eliot and Quentin would try to reach out and grab each other’s hands as the carousel moved and giggled and blew kisses at each other.

“That was a lot of fun,” Eliot said as their ride on the carousel ended and they disembarked to allow the next group of people on. “We should come back.”

“We should,” Quentin agreed. “But now one more stop.”

“More to do?” Eliot said. 

“Just one more thing,” Quentin said as he led Eliot a couple of blocks from Battery Park to a little place called Carvel.

“Ice cream?” Eliot said. “Like, an ice cream cone?”

“They also have ice cream sandwiches and other stuff too,” Quentin said as he held the door open for Eliot.

“I do have a sweet tooth,” Eliot said. “What are you going to have?”

“An ice cream sandwich, I think,” Quentin said. “Something that I can eat while we walk without making too much of a mess.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Eliot said. “I’ll do the same.”

Ice cream sandwiches in hand, the two men made their way through the city, headed back towards the subway to go home.

“This was a great night,” Eliot said.

“I’m glad you had fun,” Quentin replied.

“And did you have fun?” Eliot asked.

Quentin hummed and nodded as he licked his fingers clean of ice cream. He glanced over at Eliot, saw Eliot watching his lips and blushed at the dark look he saw in Eliot’s eyes.

“I, um, I had a lot of fun,” Quentin whispered, wiping his hands clean with a napkin.

“That’s good,” Eliot replied softly. “I want to kiss you.”

Quentin swallowed as he threw the napkin away. “You … you always kiss me,” he said. “You’ve never asked before.” He squeaked a bit when Eliot tugged him into a little alley and stared up at Eliot with wide eyes.

“This is different,” Eliot breathed, leaning in close. “This will be different.”

“Oh,” Quentin whispered. “Y-yes. K-kiss me.”

All of Eliot’s previous kisses had been gentle, sweet, full of promise. But as Eliot claimed Quentin’s lips, pressing him against the wall, Quentin could feel the difference in the kiss; it was darker, but not scary, and filled with … intent.

“I want so many things,” Eliot said when he broke the kiss. “Things that I don’t think you’re ready for and things I’m not going to push for.”

“Maybe,” Quentin said, licking his lips, “maybe we should go home. There may be some things I’m not ready for, but I think there is something I am ready for.”

“Oh?” Eliot said.

“Mmmhmm,” Quentin hummed. “Let’s go home.”

The trip back to the apartment was made in silence, companionable yet slightly tension-filled. When they entered the apartment, they found it silent - everyone had made themselves scarce in their own rooms. Shoes were left by the front door, keys dropped in the bowl on the entry table and then Quentin and Eliot headed for their room.

“It’s so quiet,” Quentin murmured.

Eliot closed the bedroom door behind him, then chuckled when he saw a brief flash around the door. “Someone put a soundproof charm on our room,” he said.

“What?” Quentin said as he slipped out of his jacket and hung it up in the closet.

“A soundproof charm,” Eliot said.

“Oh,” Quentin murmured.

“They’re expecting us to make loud noises,” Eliot said with a small smile.

“Margo did say there was a lot of sexual tension between the two of us,” Quentin said as he continued to get undressed.

“There is,” Eliot agreed, “but I don’t want you to do something you’re not ready for.”

Quentin blushed a bit as he continued to get undressed. Normally he stripped down to his underwear and then tugged on a pair of sleep pants. Tonight, though, Quentin kept going until he was nude, standing in their bedroom in front of Eliot. He kept his head down, unwilling to meet Eliot’s gaze.

“Q,” Eliot breathed.

“I thought,” Quentin whispered, “that, even though I’m not ready for sex yet, that we could sleep together. My skin against yours.”

“Quentin,” Eliot whispered.

Quentin kept staring at the floor, listening to Eliot move across the room. Soon he saw Eliot’s bare feet across from his own. He felt Eliot’s finger on his chin and let Eliot lift his head, he took the chance to look at Eliot as he lifted his gaze.

Eliot was as naked as he was and Quentin felt something stir inside him. Something that had been suppressed for a long time.

“You skin against mine sounds perfect,” Eliot whispered, leaning in and giving Quentin a sweet kiss.

Quentin hummed against Eliot’s lips, stepping back a few moments later to turn down the bed. He could feel Eliot’s eyes on him as he worked and could feel his skin warming under Eliot’s gaze. He climbed into bed and rolled onto his side, watching Eliot shyly.

“Join me?” Quentin asked softly.

“Yes,” Eliot said.

Quentin watched as Eliot climbed into bed, leaving a bit of space between the two of them, as if waiting for Quentin to make his choice. Quentin smiled and scooted over, situating himself with his head on Eliot’s chest, an arm across Eliot’s waist and his leg tucked between Eliot’s.

“Like this,” Quentin whispered. “Is this okay?”

“More than okay,” Eliot said, running a hand up and down Quentin’s back. “Thank you for an amazing night.”

“Thanks for coming with me,” Quentin whispered, pressing a kiss to Eliot’s chest. “And I look forward to many more dates.”

“Same, Q,” Eliot whispered. “Same.”

* * * 

Things were different between them after that. Quentin and Eliot went on more dates, the sexual tension between them growing with each date. When they were in the apartment, they practically clung to each other, Quentin taking to sitting in Eliot’s lap when they were on the couch watching television.

But Quentin was still hesitant to take that last step. He was still healing from what had happened to him in Brakebills and he didn’t want to … rush into anything. Eliot had been very patient with him, notwithstanding all the teasing from Margo, Kady and Penny.

Quentin could feel it in the air.

Something was changing.

* * * 

“I just noticed your streaks are gone!”

Quentin glanced up from working on a small pocket watch and smiled softly at Augustine, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. 

“Yeah, we decided the reverse the magic that made them and put things back,” Quentin said.

“Well, it looks fine,” Augustine said. “There’s someone in the shop asking for you.”

“Oh, okay,” Quentin said. “I’m almost done with the pocket watch - just a few more small spells and it’ll be fixed.”

“Wonderful,” Augustine said. 

Quentin gave his boss a smile as he left the back room and headed for the shop, figuring Margo, Kady or Penny were there to say hi. They all knew where Quentin worked and had met him for lunch on various occasions, but none of them had actually come to the shop.

Quentin took one step into the shop. The person waiting in the shop was not one of his friends.

“Quentin. You’re coming back with me.”

Quentin took a hesitant step back at Alice’s words, 

“No,” Quentin said. “I’m not.”

“Yes. I have spent the past few months looking for you. You are coming back to Brakebills, we are going to get married and you’re going to fix this mess you’ve made,” Alice said, tapping her fingers.

“No.” With a few elegant taps and twirls of his fingers, Quentin stopped Alice’s impending spell in its tracks. During the few months of living with Eliot, Margo, Kady and Penny, Quentin had learned various types of spells and had become quite confident in them.

“You dare to say no to me?”

“Yes.” Quentin took a few steps in her direction, confidence growing. “You have no control over me anymore. I have a life here, friends and a boyfriend.”

“What do you mean a boyfriend? You’re mine!”

The shop started shaking and Quentin braced himself and quickly cast another spell to temporarily bind Alice’s magic.

“I’m not yours,” Quentin said. “I never was. All you wanted was a trophy, something to show off. You didn’t care about me then and you don’t care about me now! You just want everyone to stop talking about you back in Brakebills. You need help, Alice. But I’m not going to be the one to fix things. You need to figure that out on your own. You need to leave.”

“No! I’ll … I’ll take away everything you love! I’ll leave you alone in the city and you’ll have to come home!” Alice stomped her foot like a petulant child. “You’re supposed to be mine!”

“Sorry, I belong to someone else,” Quentin said. “I’ll never be yours. You cannot be here. And if I, my friends, or my boyfriend see you again, you won’t like what happens.”

“I say, is everything all right out here?” 

Quentin turned and smiled as Augustine appeared in the doorway. “Everything’s fine,” he said. “Alice was just leaving. Weren’t you, Alice?” He tapped his fingers a bit and stared at her; he was no longer afraid of the woman in front of him.

“Y-yes,” Alice said stiffly. “I was just leaving.”

“Goodbye Alice,” Quentin said. The moment she left the shop, Quentin collapsed against the nearest counter.

“Are you okay?” Augustine asked.

Quentin swallowed and nodded. “‘m fine,” he whispered. “Just a bit shook up.”

“I take it then, that young lady was not a friend,” Augustine said.

Quentin shook his head. “No, she wasn’t a friend,” he said.

“Hello, hello!” 

Quentin jumped when he heard Eliot’s voice in the entry to the shop.

“Something’s wrong, what happened?” Eliot asked, crossing the shop and taing Quentin’s hands in his.

“A young lady showed up looking for Quentin,” Augustine supplied.

“Alice,” Quentin said, falling into Eliot’s arms. “She found me. She wanted to take me back to Brakebills and said she would take away everything and force me to return. But I stood up to her … I stood up to her.”

“Good for you,” Eliot said, pressing a kiss to Quentin’s forehead. “I was going to come and take you out for lunch, but -”

“Go, go home,” Augustine said. “I can see that Quentin is shaken from his encounter. Take the rest of the day, take the weekend and I’ll see Quentin on Monday.”

Quentin gave Augustine a grateful smile and let Eliot tug him out onto the street.

“You sure you’re okay?” Eliot asked. “You do look shook up.”

“I never thought she’d find me,” Quentin replied. “I thought she’d just give up and find someone else to be her trophy.”

“You apparently made an impression,” Eliot said softly. “But you stood up to her.”

“I did,” Quentin said. “I stood up to her. She left, Eliot.”

“You did, and she did,” Eliot said. “And I’m very proud of you.”

“Can we … can we just go home? Make something for lunch at home and just cuddle under the covers at home?” Quentin asked. “I’m feeling very drained suddenly.”

“Of course,” Eliot said. “There’s leftovers from Penny’s surprisingly good cooking experiment in the fridge. We’ll warm some of that up and just sit and cuddle together.”

“That sounds good,” Quentin whispered. 

He practically plastered himself to Eliot’s side as they walked the few blocks from the shop back to the apartment. Once they were inside, Quentin went straight to their room while Eliot warmed up some food for lunch.

Quentin stripped down, tugged on a pair of sleep pants and climbed under the covers of the bed. Eliot arrived a few minutes later with two bowls, placing them both carefully on the bed before changing into his own sleep pants and joining Quentin under the covers.

“I was scared,” Quentin said, “when I first saw her.”

“I bet,” Eliot replied.

“But then I realized,” Quentin continued, “that she couldn’t hurt me, not really. I’m my own person, I’m stronger now than I was and I didn’t have to be scared of her anymore.”

“You don’t,” Eliot said. “And she’s gone now. You’ll never have to see her again.”

“It’s like a weight lifted that I didn’t even know was there,” Quentin replied as he dug into lunch.

“You are well and truly free now,” Eliot said softly. 

Quentin hummed and rested his head on Eliot’s shoulder as he ate. He felt both exhilarated and emotionally drained at the same time.

As the two of them ate, things were becoming clearer and clearer for Quentin. He realized that there was something he needed to do … something he wanted Eliot to do for him.

“Eliot,” Quentin said when they were done eating.

“Quentin,” Eliot said with a small smile.

“I have a request,” Quentin said. “It’s really important for me, and I feel like it’s important for us.”

“Okay,” Eliot said slowly.

“I’d like you to cut my hair.”

“What?” Eliot said, scooting back on the bed a bit.

“Not short, not like what Alice was going to do,” Quentin said quickly. “But, I need this and I want to give this to you. I want you to know how much you mean to me.”

“I do know,” Eliot said softly. “I know how much I mean to you. I … I love you, Quentin Coldwater.”

“And I love you, Eliot Waugh,” Quentin replied. “I think my heart knew it before my brain did. I think I’ve loved you since long before Alice started courting me.”

“I’ll only do it if you’re really sure,” Eliot said.

“It’s long and cumbersome and takes forever to dry,” Quentin said, smiling at Eliot. “I bet you’ve been itching to cut it a bit.”

“Maybe,” Eliot replied with a smile. “I was waiting for you to ask Margo to take you to a salon or something.”

Quentin blushed and shook his head. “Nope,” he said. “I want it to be you. I feel like … I feel like it needs to be you.”

“Okay,” Eliot murmured, leaning in and kissing Quentin sweetly. “I assume you want to do this now?”

Quentin smiled and nodded. “Yeah, now,” he said as he climbed out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

“We’re not even dressed right for this,” Eliot teased as he followed Quentin. “No wedding finery.”

“We don’t need it,” Quentin said as he sat down on the toilet seat. “It’s about the meaning behind it.” He blushed a bit when he felt Eliot press a kiss to the top of his head before undoing the braid he’d put his hair in earlier that day before work.

“How much do you want?” Eliot asked as he finished unbraiding Quentin’s hair and began gently combing through it.

“To my shoulders,” Quentin said.

“You’re sure?” Eliot asked, reaching into one of the bathroom drawers for some scissors. “That’s a lot of hair.”

“I know,” Quentin replied, “and I’m sure. I’ve thought about it for a while.”

“Okay.”

Quentin smiled as he felt Eliot press one more kiss to the top of his head before Eliot was once again combing his hair. The first snip put butterflies in Quentin’s stomach. Quentin saw Eliot set a long lock of hair on the bathroom counter and gasped.

“No turning back now,” Eliot murmured.

“I know,” Quentin whispered. “It’s just … it’s real now.”

“Going to get more real with every snip,” Eliot said.

Quentin sat still as Eliot continued to snip, laying lock after lock of hair on the counter until the scissors finally joined the hair and Quentin felt Eliot’s hands in his hair.

“Oh,” Quentin gasped. It felt so different!

“Want to see it?” Eliot asked.

Quentin nodded and stood, moving to stand in front of the mirror. He saw Eliot standing behind them, then saw himself. He gasped again - it looked different too! It sat in gentle waves on his shoulders and felt so much lighter. He gave his head a shake and laughed when his hair fell in his face.

“I love it!” Quentin said, tucking a lock of hair out of his face.

“Good,” Eliot whispered, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Quentin’s cheek. “You look stunning. Absolutely stunning.”

“Thank you,” Quentin said, leaning back against Eliot. “What should we do with the hair?”

“Donate it? There are companies that make wigs for children with cancer,” Eliot suggested.

“I like that idea,” Quentin said.

“Thought you would,” Eliot said. “Everyone’s going to be home soon. And you should expect a lot of comments about your hair.”

“Yeah,” Quentin said. “Sure we can’t just hide in here for a while longer?”

“Just delaying the inevitable,” Eliot said. “Also you have to tell them about Alice.”

“Guess,” Quentin said.

“So let’s put shirts on and go wait in the living room,” Eliot said.

Quentin sighed and tugged a shirt on before following Eliot out into the living room, smiling at the play of Eliot’s back muscles as Eliot tugged on a shirt as well. He fell onto the couch and smiled when Eliot curled up against his side, humming when he felt Eliot’s warm breath behind his ear.

“Easier for me to do this now,” Eliot said, tugging on Quentin’s earlobe with his teeth.

Quentin whimpered softly. “Eliot,” he breathed.

“Hmmm?”

“Don’t start something you can’t finish before everyone gets home,” Quentin whispered, breathing a sigh of relief when Eliot stopped.

“Maybe for dessert then.”

Quentin shivered when he felt Eliot push his hair aside and press a kiss to the base of Quentin’s neck. He snuggled back against Eliot and waited for everyone to come home.

It wasn’t long before the front door opened and Margo, Kady and Penny all came practically falling into the apartment.

“Hey what’s for - holy shit!” Kady said, stopping just inside the door and blocking everyone else.

“Kady, move that delectable ass so I can - Q?” Penny said.

“Why is everyone stopping?” Margo said as she pushed past Kady and Penny, then smiled when she saw Quentin. “Looking good, Q.”

“Eliot did it for me,” Quentin whispered.

“Did he now?” Margo said. “Well, stand up and let me see.”

Quentin sighed and climbed off the couch, stepping forward a bit so Margo could walk around him in a slow circle.

“Suits you,” Penny said.

“Yeah, looks good,” Kady agreed. 

“Well done, Eliot,” Margo said.

“Thank you,” Eliot said, standing and giving everyone an elegant bow.

“Okay, seriously,” Penny said, “dinner?”

“There’s leftovers,” Eliot said. “Or we can order in.”

“Thai food?” Kady asked. “The place near Quentin’s work?”

“I think Quentin should choose,” Eliot said. “Celebration for standing up to Alice today.”

“What?” Kady, Penny and Margo all yelled in unison.

“Alice showed up at my work today,” Quentin said, dropping back onto the couch, smiling when Eliot sat down next to him. “Apparently she’d been looking for me. I don’t know how she found me, but she did, and she threatened all of you, trying to get me to go back to her. And I … I stood up to her. I blocked her magic and got her to leave.”

“That’s great!” Margo said.

Quentin suddenly found himself tugged up onto his feet and wrapped in a big group him. Eliot was behind him, Margo in front and Penny and Kady were on either side of him, all of them hugging him tight.

“We’re proud of you,” Kady said.

“You did good, kid,” Penny said.

“Good job, sweetpea,” Margo said.

Quentin basked in the hug for a few minutes, until everyone finally let him go.

“Okay seriously, what are we having for dinner?” Penny asked. “Because I’m starving.”

“Thai food,” Quentin said, laughing when Kady whooped happily.

A few hours later Quentin was slightly buzzed and full of food, snuggling naked with Eliot in bed under the covers.

“Proud of you,” Eliot whispered.

“Thanks,” Quentin said. “So, um, you started something before everyone got home.”

“I did,” Eliot murmured. “Do you want me to pick up where I left off?”

Quentin nodded, then squeaked when he found himself rolled onto his side, Eliot pressed against his back. He whimpered as he felt Eliot’s lips against his neck, felt one of Eliot’s hands reach around and find one of Quentin’s nipples, tweaking it gently.

“Shit,” Quentin whispered.

“This okay?” Eliot asked softly.

“I would have stopped it if it wasn’t,” Quentin replied. They had spent many a night under the covers learning each others’ bodies, learning what pushed each other right to the edge of orgasm. They’d moved past shy kisses and hesitant touches onto mutual handjobs. 

But this. This was different.

“You tell me if you want to stop,” Eliot whispered.

Quentin nodded, then whimpered as he felt Eliot give his nipple another tweak, then shivered as he felt Eliot rolling his nipple between his fingers. A few moments later, Quentin felt Eliot’s cock nestled between his asscheeks and froze.

“Eliot?” Quentin looked back over his shoulder, a little hesitant.

“We’re not doing that,” Eliot said. “But I wanted to try something.”

“Okay,” Quentin said, pressing back against Eliot experimentally. He squeaked again when he felt something cold on his ass.

“Just a little lube,” Eliot murmured as he pressed a kiss to Quentin’s shoulder.

Quentin nodded and closed his eyes as Eliot’s cock nestled once again between his asscheeks. This time, though, he felt Eliot’s hand around his cock and whimpered softly. Then he felt Eliot’s cock between his cheeks sliding up … sliding down … sliding up … sliding down. With every movement, Eliot gave Quentin’s cock a stroke. Down. Up. Down. Up.

“El,” Quentin whined, pushing back against Eliot, wanting more, needing more.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Eliot said, stroking Quentin’s cock faster. “Let go, want to feel you come, Q. Please.”

A few more strokes from Eliot had Quentin coming hard, his vision blurring as his ass clenched around Eliot’s cock, which had Eliot coming all over the bed and the backs of Quentin’s legs.

“El,” Quentin whispered. “El …”

“Shh,” Eliot said.

Quentin whimpered a bit when he felt Eliot pull away. He pried his eyes open and watched as Eliot slipped on a silk dressing robe, then leaned down and pressed a kiss to Quentin’s hair.

“Where goin’?” Quentin mumbled.

“To get something to clean you up,” Eliot replied softly. “And something we can sleep on instead of the sheets.”

“Mmmm, ‘m in the wet spot,” Quentin muttered, wiggling a bit.

“Q, the whole bed is a wet spot,” Eliot said, chuckling softly. “I’ll be right back.”

Quentin closed his eyes and hummed softly. Eliot had pushed him past his own boundaries and it had been … fantastic. Quentin felt the bed shift and opened his eyes, humming again as he saw Eliot kneeling at his feet, gently wiping him clean.

“That’s nice,” Quentin murmured. “Find something for us to sleep on?”

“A blanket from the linen closet,” Eliot said. “We’ll wash everything tomorrow.”

“Sounds good to me,” Quentin said as he climbed off the bed and helped Eliot lay the blanket on the bed.

“Feel okay?” Eliot asked, moving over to stand by Quentin.

Quentin nodded and stood on his toes, giving Eliot a sweet kiss.

“I’m very okay,” Quentin said. “That was amazing.”

“Good dessert?” Eliot asked with a wink, hanging his dressing robe and tossing the damp cloth he’d used to clean Quentin near the door.

“Very,” Quentin said as he climbed back onto the bed.

“I’m glad,” Eliot said.

Quentin smiled as Eliot joined him back on the bed, snuggling in close and resting his head on Eliot’s chest. He threw an arm across Eliot’s waist and hummed happily when he felt Eliot’s hand running up and down his back.

There were words Quentin wanted to say. 

A feeling that was certain.

A feeling Quentin was pretty sure Eliot felt too.

Quentin just needed to find the right moment.

* * * 

Quentin juggled his bags as he checked his phone. He’d been all around the city picking things up from various shops - he was pretty sure Margo had sent him on a wild goose chase when he could have gotten everything at one shop. It didn’t help that the city was teeming with people - NY Pride had just ended as well as the Fourth of July so there were tourists everywhere; Quentin would have rather stayed home and enjoyed his long weekend.

“Quentin? Quentin!”

Quentin turned and searched the crowds of people on the sidewalk until he spotted … 

“Josh?” Quentin maneuvered through the crowds of people until he was standing right in front of his former dance instructor.

“Quentin! What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” Quentin said with a smile. “We all do; me, Margo, Eliot, Kady and Penny. Although Penny and Kady are out of town on a mini-vacation to the Hamptons. What are you doing here?”

“There’s a shop here that sells a very particular herb that Poppy needs for a potion she’s working on,” Josh said, “so I offered to come to the city and get it for her. So, um, how are you?”

“Doing really good,” Quentin said. “I have a job at a little magical repair shop just a few blocks from home. I walk to work every morning, Eliot comes to meet me for lunch most days … I’m really happy.”

“You look it,” Josh said. “Really, you look happier than you ever did back in Brakebills,”

“I am,” Quentin said. “So, any rumors about me flying back in Brakebills?”

“Well,” Josh said slowly, “Alice is saying you went nuts and you’re living in sin with another man and that it’s a good thing she never married you and she regrets courting you.”

Quentin snorted. “Well, I am living in sin with another man,” he said.

“So, you and Eliot are a thing, huh?” Josh said.

“Yeah,” Quentin replied. “We are.”

“I could see it,” Josh said, “before Alice started courting you. I saw you and Eliot in the meadow … you two are cute together.”

“Thanks,” Quentin said.

“I better get going,” Josh said. “Do you … do you want me to tell anyone I saw you?”

Quentin shook his head. “Nah, let them believe what they want to believe,” he said. “I know the truth and that’s really all that matters. It was good to see you, Josh.”

“Good to see you too, man,” Josh said, patting Quentin on the shoulder. “But … it’s okay if I tell Poppy, right? She has this weird way of knowing when I’ve got a secret.”

“You can tell Poppy,” Quentin said with a laugh. 

“Cool,” Josh said. “Goodbye, Quentin.”

“Goodbye, Josh,” Quentin replied, smiling to himself as he watched Josh disappear into the crowds before turning his attention back to his phone. He was pleased to find he’d picked everything on Margo’s list, so he tucked his phone into his back pocket and headed home.

“I’m home!” Quentin called when he stepped into the apartment. He didn’t immediately see Margo, so he went to the kitchen to begin unpacking all the bags.

“You got everything?” Margo appeared in the kitchen and started to help Quentin put stuff away.

“Yep, I got everything,” Quentin said. “You know, you sent me all over the city and I didn’t even get to go meet Eliot for lunch today.” While Quentin had a long weekend, Eliot did not.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Margo said.

“You’d better,” Quentin muttered. “So, what is all this for anyway?”

“You and Eliot,” Margo said.

“What?”

“You and Eliot,” Margo repeated. “Don’t you even know what day it is?”

“Six months since I was rescued,” Quentin said softly.

“Thought it deserved a celebration,” Margo said. “And I’m going to help you put everything together and then I’m making myself scarce for the weekend.”

“Scarce? Where are you going?” Quentin asked.

“I’ll be spending the weekend with this delectable man I’ve been seeing,” Margo said. “Micah treats me like the queen I know I am.”

“That’s great,” Quentin said. “Um, what do you mean when you say ‘put everything together’?”

“We’re going to make a lovely dinner and dessert, then we’re going to get you cleaned up and dressed. I’m going to leave. You and Eliot are going to have a lovely weekend together,” Margo said.

Quentin knew Margo wasn’t really a cook, but he could follow recipes pretty easily and soon he and Margo had both dinner going in the slow cookers and dessert baking in the oven. 

“The mini-cheesecakes will be done before the dinner is,” Quentin said.

“Those need to cool and be garnished anyway,” Margo said. “So when those are done, we’ll stick them in the fridge and go back to your room - dinner is in no danger of burning.”

“Good to know,” Quentin said. 

Once the mini-cheesecakes were in the fridge, Quentin let Margo drag him back to his room where bags were strewn across his bed.

“I splurged,” Margo said. “Meaning I went to Buffalo Exchange and got designer labels for you.”

“Thanks?” Quentin said, approaching the bed and going through the bags. He found black boots, fitted black trousers and a purple button up that had a silk back, but the front consisted of panels of purple silk and purple lace. Quentin also found a black leather cuff bracelet in the bags and he blushed a bit as he ran his finger over the leather.

“You like it?” Margo asked.

“I feel like it’s a bit much,” Quentin said.

“You should see what I got Eliot,” Margo said.

“You got stuff for him too?”

“I sent him to work with it, to change into before coming home,” Margo said.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” Quentin said.

“Yes I did,” Margo said. “I take care of my sweetpea.”

Quentin blinked back tears and wrapped Margo in a hug. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“We’re not done yet,” Margo said. “Come to the bathroom.”

“Why?” Quentin said, but let Margo pull him towards the bathroom, where he plopped down on the toilet. “You’re not going to tell me why?”

“I want to do something,” Margo said. “I’ve actually wanted to do it since Eliot first cut your hair, but I decided to be patient and give you some time to get used to it first.”

“You, patient?” Quentin teased, laughing when Margo smacked him on the shoulder.

“Yes,” Margo said. “But I think tonight’s the perfect night.”

“Okay,” Quentin said slowly. “What do you want to do?”

“An undercut,” Margo said.

“A what?” Quentin asked. He felt Margo comb through his hair and hummed softly at Margo’s gentle ministrations. He felt her putting up a portion of his hair up in a bun, then felt her fingers in the hair she’d left free, humming louder when he felt her fingernails on his scalp.

“Sensitive?” Margo asked softly.

“Bit, yeah,” Quentin whispered.

“This will … enhance that,” Margo said. “I want to buzz this off - not all of it, just the bit here below the tops of your ears. When your hair’s down no one will even be able to tell.”

Quentin was quiet for a few minutes. “Would … would Eliot like it?” he asked softly.

“Oh sweetpea, Eliot wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off you,” Margo said. “But is it something you want? I think it would look awesome and I know El would like it, but do you want it?”

Quentin bit his lip. “Go for it,” he said finally.

“Are you sure?” Margo asked, scissors already in her hand. 

“It’s a step in my evolution, bringing me closer to who I’m supposed to be,” Quentin said with a nod.

“Aw, sweatpea,” Margo said, pressing a kiss to the top of Quentin’s head. “You already are who you’re supposed to be. This is just finessing.”

Quentin smiled, then gasped as he felt Margo snip a lock of hair close to his scalp. The hair looked long as Quentin watched Margo lay the lock of hair on the bathroom counter. Snip after snip, Quentin watched as the pile of hair got bigger and bigger; a small part of him was worried but true to her word, Margo never went above the tops of his ears.

“Done?” Quentin asked when he saw Margo put the scissors down.

“With the first part,” Margo said.

“First part?” Quentin asked, shivering when he felt Margo’s hand on the back of his head.

“I need to clean it up with the clippers and then I’m going to style the rest of your hair to surprise Eliot,” Margo said.

“Clippers?” Quentin said.

“Just to clean up what I already did,” Margo said as she plugged the clippers in.

“Okay,” Quentin whispered. He felt Margo give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, flinched a bit when he heard her start the clippers, then gasped softly when felt the clippers at the base of his neck. They vibrated against the back of Quentin’s head and he dropped his head to his chest as Margo worked. When the clippers were off, Quentin kept his head to his chest, humming as he felt Margo’s hand on the back of his head, dusting away any stray hairs.

“Want to see it?” Margo asked.

“Sure,” Quentin said. He stood and stretched a bit before moving to stand in front of the bathroom mirror. Looking straight on he couldn’t really tell, but then he turned his head and his eyes widened a bit.

“It’s great, right?” Margo asked as she took the bun out and let the rest of his hair down. “And you can’t even tell when your hair’s down!”

But Quentin could tell. He felt his hair brush against his buzzed scalp and gasped again, hesitantly reaching up and running a finger up and down his exposed scalp.

“It’s … something,” Quentin whispered, still exploring his scalp.

“You don’t regret it, do you?”

Quentin lowered his hands and gave Margo a smile. “Nope,” he said. “I don’t. It definitely feels different and I’ll have to get used to it, but I don’t regret it at all.”

“Awesome,” Margo said, pressing a kiss to Quentin’s cheek. “Now sit back down. I need to style your hair, then you need to get dressed - Eliot will be home soon.”

Quentin laughed and nodded, sitting back down so Margo could work; first with a comb, then spray bottle, then with the brush.

“Okay, go get dressed and I’ll set the table and get everything there ready,” Margo said.

Quentin stood and headed towards the bedroom, feeling his hair brush against his exposed scalp with every step he took. He itched the run his hands over the back of his head, but knew that he could get … well … distracted doing that and that there were other things to do.

Quentin went into his room and got changed - he felt a bit silly but he trusted Margo’s judgment when it came to clothes.

“Do I pass muster?” Quentin asked as he reached the kitchen.

Margo turned and gave a low whistle. “You look good,” she said. “Eliot will be speechless.”

Quentin blushed a bit. “He always makes me speechless,” he whispered.

“Awww, that’s so sickeningly romantic, I may vomit,” Margo said. “Go finish setting the table - Eliot will literally be here any minute. I’m going to finish garnishing the mini-cheesecakes, then I’ll bring out the dinner plates.”

Quentin gave Margo a salute then went to the dining area to finish setting the table, the lit the candles with a few flicks of his wrist.

“Looks nice,” Margo said as she put food on the table as well as two glasses of wine. “Now, only one glass of wine each. Alcohol affects performance, and if this night goes the way I think it will, neither you or El will want that.”

“Margo!” Quentin said, feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment. He never could get totally used to Margo’s bluntness.

“Just looking out for you two,” Margo said. “Anyway, I’m out! I’ll see you Monday and, well, I hope you and Eliot take full advantage of the empty apartment this weekend. And I’ll want details when I get home.”

Before Quentin could comment, Margo left, leaving Quentin alone. With his nerves. He tried not to pace or run his hands through his hair as he waited for Eliot to get home.

“Q?”

Quentin jumped when he heard Eliot at the front door. He poked his head around the doorway and stared at Eliot. Margo had outdone herself; Eliot was dressed in navy trousers, a lighter blue long sleeved button up with a dark mustard tie and a navy vest. 

“You look beautiful,” Quentin said.

“Why are you hiding over there?” Eliot said. 

“Margo dressed me,” Quentin said. 

“Where is Margo?” Eliot asked. “The apartment is very quiet.”

“She went to go stay the weekend with some guy she’s been seeing,” Quentin replied. “So, we have the apartment to ourselves this weekend.”

“That’s nice,” Eliot said. “And something smells really good.”

“Made dinner,” Quentin said.

“Are you going to come here and say hi? You said Margo dressed you, she clearly dressed me too,” Eliot said, motioning to his clothes.

“You look lovely,” Quentin said as he stepped around the corner and let Eliot see him.

“Fuck,” Eliot whispered. “Is that top silk?”

“And lace,” Quentin replied. “Margo said something about us celebrating -”

“Six months,” Eliot finished. “I remembered. I wanted today off but couldn’t swing it.”

“Margo took advantage of that by sending me all over the city to get stuff for dinner and dessert,” Quentin said. “Are you hungry?”

“Starved,” Eliot said. “Missed lunch.”

“Sorry I couldn’t come for lunch today,” Quentin said.

“It’s okay,” Eliot replied.

Quentin smiled as Eliot closed the space between them and pulled Quentin in for a sweet kiss.

“Dinner’s ready,” Quentin breathed when Eliot broke the kiss.

“In a minute,” Eliot said.

Quentin laughed when Eliot leaned down and kissed him again. He felt one of Eliot’s hands cup the back of his head, felt a couple of Eliot’s fingers slip through his hair and groaned softly when Eliot’s fingers brushed his undercut.

“What is that?” Eliot asked.

Quentin blinked up at Eliot. “Um … an undercut?” he said. “Margo talked me into it and -” He squeaked a bit when Eliot spun him around and pushed his hair aside.

“Fuck,” Eliot whispered.

“Do you … I mean, I like it,” Quentin said softly. “Do … “ He froze when he felt Eliot’s cheek against the back of his head, rubbing back and forth. Quentin’s knees buckled a bit when he felt Eliot’s lips against the back of his head. “Oh.”

“Mmmm,” Eliot hummed. “Something to explore later, perhaps?”

Quentin licked his lips and nodded, turning back to face Eliot. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Later.”

“You mentioned dinner?” Eliot said, reaching over and taking Quentin’s hand in his.

“Y-yeah,” Quentin said. “Beef stew in sourdough bread bowls.”

“Sounds delicious,” Eliot said. “Lead the way.”

Quentin led the way to the dining area, holding Eliot’s chair out for him.

“Such a gentleman,” Eliot said as he sat down. “Wine too?”

“Margo said only one glass each,” Quentin said. “I get the feeling she’s probably put a spell on all the bottles to know if we pour ourselves a second glass.”

“Ever the mama bear,” Eliot said, taking a sip of wine.

“Mmmhmm,” Quentin hummed. “So, how was your day?”

Dinner and dessert were disgustingly domestic and romantic. Between bites of food and sips of wine they told each other about their day. Eliot talked about work and the customers he’d worked with. Quentin talked about traipsing all over the city and running into Josh.

“At least two people in Brakebills will know the truth,” Quentin said.

“You don’t want him to tell your parents?” Eliot asked.

Quentin shrugged. “Josh is a bit gossipy, so it will probably get back to my parents. But … they’re not my family so I don’t care. You’re my family.”

Eliot reached over and squeezed Quentin’s hand. “You’re mine,” he whispered.

Quentin lifted their hands and gently kissed Eliot’s fingers. “I’m going to go set the dishes to soak,” he said softly.

“I’ll help,” Eliot said.

Quentin stood and began clearing the table, smiling when Eliot stood and helped, gently hip checking Quentin as they both headed to the kitchen.

“This has been a lovely night so far,” Quentin said.

“It can get better,” Eliot whispered. “I mean, if you want -”

“I want,” Quentin said. “I mean, we’ve done everything except that.”

“I’m not going to push you,” Eliot said.

“You’re not pushing me.” Quentin stepped over to Eliot, took Eliot’s hand in it and pressed it to the back of his head, leaning into Eliot’s touch. A few moments later, he felt Eliot’s fingers against the buzzed part of his scalp and groaned softly.

“Fuck, Q,” Eliot breathed.

Quentin whimpered as he felt both of Eliot’s hands on the back of his head exploring as Eliot leaned in and kissed Quentin. 

“El,” Quentin gasped, knees buckling again as he felt Eliot’s nails scratch the back of his head gently. “El … bedroom. Should go to the bedroom.”

“Good idea,” Eliot said, snapping his fingers and putting out the candles on the table.

Quentin practically had to run to keep up with Eliot’s long strides as Eliot led the way down the hall to their room. Once they were in the room with the door closed Quentin found himself pressed face first against the door, hair pushed to the side and Eliot’s lips pressing sweet kisses against Quentin’s undercut.

“El,” Quentin whimpered. “El … Please … I want … “

Eliot pulled back and turned Quentin around. “What do you want?” he asked.

“I want you to make love to me,” Quentin said. “I want to give myself to you body and soul.”

“Q,” Eliot whispered.

“I already belong to you.” Quentin stepped around Eliot and began to undress; boots, pants, bracelet all ended up in a pile by the door. He started to unbutton his shirt, but Eliot stopped him.

“Leave it on,” Eliot said. “Unbuttoned. But leave it on. Silk and lace looks good on you.”

Quentin blushed but nodded, leaving the shirt undone as he stepped out of his underwear.

“Your turn,” Quentin whispered as he moved to lay down on the bed. He couldn’t help but grin as Eliot started to undress, humming a bit as he dropped each item of clothing in the pile Quentin had started.

“You’re sure about this?” Eliot asked as he climbed onto the bed with Quentin.

Quentin smiled and nodded, reaching up to card a hand through Eliot’s curls. “Yes,” he whispered. “I want this.”

“You tell me if there’s something you don’t like,” Eliot said, “or if I’m moving too fast.”

Quentin smiled, wrapped his fist in Eliot’s hair and tugged him close for a bruising kiss.

“I want this,” Quentin breathed.

“Got it,” Eliot said, a bit breathless. 

They had spent six months learning each other, learning just the right spots, just the right touches, to get each other off. This night, however, Eliot was almost reverent in how he touched Quentin. His tongue traced paths around Quentin’s nipples, his lips pressed gentle kisses to Quentin’s stomach.

Quentin had never felt so cherished.

He felt something a little cold against his ass and flinched a bit.

“Sorry, sorry,” Eliot said. “Thas was the lube.”

“It’s okay,” Quentin said, spreading his legs a bit. “It’s okay.”

The first finger felt almost intrusive, but not.; Quentin wiggled a little against the finger a bit. He felt the finger circle a bit and bit his lip - that was different. When the second finger slipped in, Quentin gasped softly.

“Okay?” Eliot asked.

Quentin hummed and nodded. “Okay,” he said softly. Moments later he felt Eliot’s fingers move, felt them scissor inside him and cried out softly. Not knowing what to do with his hands, Quentin settled for gripping Eliot’s shoulders.

“Fuck,” Eliot groaned. “Q …”

“Feels good,” Quentin said. 

“Ready for more?” Eliot asked.

Quentin nodded eagerly, then felt more lube and a third finger inside him. He hissed softly and stilled for a few moments, just getting used to the feeling. A moment later he felt Eliot’s fingers move, they pushed forward and brushed against something and Quentin keened, arching up into Eliot’s touch.

“Fuck!” Quentin yelled.

“Prostate,” Eliot whispered.

“Do that again,” Quentin begged, “please.”

“With pleasure,” Eliot said.

Quentin felts his nails digging into Eliot’s shoulders as he arched into Eliot’s touch again. It was like nothing Quentin had ever felt and everything Quentin wanted to feel again.

“More,” Quentin said. “I want more.”

“I can do that,” Eliot said. “Do you want me to use a condom? I can, if that makes you more comfortable, baby.”

Quentin smiled and pulled Eliot in for a kiss. “We had the talk, I know you’re clean,” he said.

“Okay,” Eliot whispered. “Okay.”

Quentin released his hold on Eliot’s shoulders and carded his hand through Eliot’s hair again. “I want this, El,” he said. “So much.” 

Quentin felt Eliot’s fingers slide out of him and whimpered softly, but moments later was rewarded with the feel of Eliot’s cock filling him. Eliot moved slowly, carefully, and it took all of Quentin’s willpower to keep from wrapping his legs around Eliot and pulling him forward. Finally, finally he felt Eliot stop moving.

“Quentin,” Eliot whispered. “Quentin …”

“I’m yours,” Quentin whispered. “I belong to you … heart and soul. All yours.”

“I’m yours,” Eliot replied. “I belong to you … heart and soul. All yours.”

Quentin gasped as he felt Eliot give a little thrust. “Oh!”

“Like that?” Eliot said, grinning.

“Asshole, yes, do it again!” Quentin said, then groaned when he felt Eliot thrust again. He wrapped a hand around his own cock and started to stroke it concert with Eliot’s thrusts. 

It didn’t take long, both of them already on edge, and soon enough they both came. Quentin grunted softly as Eliot collapsed on top of him, humming happily and running a hand up and down Eliot’s back.

“That was amazing,” Eliot groaned.

“Mmmhmm,” Quentin said, “can we do that again?”

Eliot laughed and pressed a kiss to Quentin’s shoulder. “We have the whole weekend to ourselves,” he said. “We have plenty of time.”

“We have our whole lifetime ahead of us,” Quentin whispered.

“Aw such a romantic,” Eliot replied.

“Well, we did kind of recite vows back there,” Quentin said. “Of a sort.”

“Of a sort,” Eliot agreed, shifting a bit and kissing Quentin sweetly. 

“I love you, Eliot Waugh,” Quentin whispered, wiggling a bit as he felt Eliot slide out. 

“I love you, Quentin Coldwater,” Eliot replied.

“You promise we’ll do that again,” Quentin said as he removed his shirt and tossed it onto the floor next to bed. 

“I promise,” Eliot said. “You know something I’ve come to realize? Our life is kind of like a fairy tale. I mean, bordering on Grimm’s Fairy Tales, but it is a fairy tale.”

“But we got our happy ending,” Quentin said. “So, bit more Disney than Grimms.” He hummed and tugged Eliot closer, rolling them so they were laying on their sides facing each other.

“Here’s to our happily ever after, Q,” Eliot whispered, leaning forward and kissing Quentin sweetly.

“Happily ever after, indeed.”


End file.
